


To Forge a Child

by dancinglily



Series: We Were Born To Rise [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child abuse (early chapters), F/M, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Lily Evans Potter & Marauders Friendship, Marauders' Era, POV James Potter, POV Lily Evans, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-20 02:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4770467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancinglily/pseuds/dancinglily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>UPDATE: I'm putting this story on hiatus, because I've realised that what I truly wanted to write about is how Jily start to date and fall in love, as well as the war from their 7th year to their death. I will thus be continuing with the second part of the WWBTR series.</i>
</p>
<p>Beginning in the summer of 1975, the story follows Lily and the Marauders through their sixth year at Hogwarts. Although until the age of sixteen, they have spent their days idly in the castle, untouched by the horrors of war, they will soon find out that cruelty and fear have a way of creeping into even the most magical of places.</p>
<p>As James is faced with loss and grief for the first time, Sirius has to find his own path away from the grip of his family, and Peter attempts to find his place among his friends. Lily struggles to confront the ever growing hatred against Muggleborns, and Remus tries to come to terms with the constant fear of being abandoned by the people he loves the most.</p>
<p>While danger closes in on Hogwarts’ walls, they each are facing their own battles – yet pulled in these conflicting directions, will they be able put their differences and prejudices aside to come together and fight for their common goal?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A New Home

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first fanfic I've ever written. Wow. I'm impressed by myself.
> 
> Anyway, I just want to give you a bit of info before you begin reading. This started off as a Jily fanfic but, halfway through planning it, I realised that I cared too much about Sirius, Remus, Peter's and other minor character's story to not give them as much of a chance as Lily and James at showing them. I don't want them to feel like props I use to fill my story whenever I'm not talking about how Lily and James fall in love. I want them them to feel involved and important, so basically this has become a Marauders' era fanfic. I gave it the best shot I had and I hope you'll like. And I promise that there will be Jily, because they the reason I wanted to write this.
> 
> Also, shoutout to Sina for being the best beta reader.

_JAMES POV_

* * *

James sat at the dining room table ignoring his parents' concerned looks. Despite the big summer storm blowing up outside, he was too enthralled in his own thoughts to be bothered by it and didn't jump when a clap of thunder shook the whole house. A flash of lightning caught his attention and made him look up at the window. The raindrops sounded like pebbles hitting the glass and the wind was pushing against the house making it shake under its pressure. Every so often, Mr. Potter would glance at the family's relics with an eagle eye to check if they were in peril of falling.

James looked down at his food. He had barely touched it since the beginning of supper and was now pushing the different bits of vegetable around his plate.

“What's the matter, Jamie?” he heard his dad say over the whistling of the wind.

“It's Sirius.” he said still not looking up. “He hasn't owled me in days.”

Mr. Potter chuckled.

“Reckon that owls can fly in this weather?”

His mum leaned forward and reached for his hand.

“James, I'm sure you needn't worry. Sirius is a big boy!”

“Yes, but you know the lot he's with. They're complete nutters!” He waved his finger in circles next to his head to emphasize his point. “And, well, he was supposed to owl me five days ago …”

“I'll tell you what”, said his mum resting her elbows on the table and intertwining her fingers. “If he hasn't owled back in two days, your father or I can apparate with you to his house.”

James felt some weight lifted from his shoulders. He knew his mum was right; Sirius wouldn't let anything happen to him without putting up a fight. Still, he couldn't help but worry. Owls weren't the only way for James and Sirius to communicate. They each had one pair of a two-way mirror that allowed them to talk in a more discrete manner. The problem was that, in this last week, every time James had tried to call Sirius, he had never answered. This wouldn't have been an issue if it was Remus or Peter who he was trying to call – they were probably off on holidays; but with Sirius it was different. He had never gotten along with his parents, but these last couple of years his relationship with them had become downright hostile. He had almost decided to not go back to their house during the summer holiday.

James couldn't imagine what it would be like to live in a place where you were constantly insulted and sometimes even beaten. He hadn't seen any of it with his own eyes of course – Sirius never had invited him to their house – but he had noticed a few bruises on his friend's body at the start of every term.

He swallowed hard and pushed his chair back.

“I'm not very hungry.”

His dad let out an exasperated sigh.

“James, starving yourself isn't going to make Sirius answer your letters any quicker. Try eating some more.”

James was about to protest when they heard the doorbell ring, the sound of it barely discernible over the clap of thunder.

The room went dead silent. Mr. and Mrs. Potter exchanged worried looks.

“Whoever's out there is utterly mental!” Mrs. Potter said interrupting the silence. “How can anyone be outside in this ruckus?” 

They heard the door open and the air made the hairs on the back of James' neck stand up as a gust of chilly wind entered the house. It shut with a slam and a house elf scurried into the dining room.

“Ma – masters,” she squeaked trembling. “There's a young man wa – waiting in the foyer.” The three Potters froze. At the look of outraged shock on their faces, the house elf’s trembling worsened. “H – he -”

“You let a stranger into the house?!” shrieked Mrs. Potter.

James saw both of his parents reach for their wands. The house elf covered her eyes with her long spidery fingers.

“P – Pokey i – is sorry, Masters. Pokey didn’t want to let the stranger in, b – but he was most persistent. H – he stepped past Pokey and sat in the foyer. S – said his name is Sirius Black.”

James exploded out of his chair making it fall backwards. The house elf jumped.

“Sirius Black?! Are you sure?! Did you recognise him?!” 

“N – no. He was so bloodied up P – Pokey could hardly see his face.”

“Bloodied up!?” he said his mouth agape.

That did it. He took two long-legged strides around the corner of the table and ran through the double door that led to the foyer.

 

“James, wait! He could be a fraud!” said his mum.

He ignored her and ran straight to where Pokey had come from. He could hear his parents' hurried steps behind him. He barged into the gloomy foyer. At the sight of his friend his insides gave a nasty pang. 

Sirius was sitting on one of the old-fashioned leather armchairs, leaning forward, his hands clasped over his head while his hair and clothes dripped unto the carpet.

“Sirius?” he said kneeling in front of him. “What in the bloody hell?”

His brows bumped together in a scowl. He could see Sirius was trembling. He wasn't wearing a cloak and the rain had soaked right through his clothes. James took off his jumper and wrapped it around his  friend’s shaky shoulders.

Sirius looked up at James as a flash of lightning hit, making his face visible. He had a gash across his cheek and one across his forehead that were still feebly bleeding; the crimson drops making his face look ashen. One of his eyes was swollen shut, but the other one was wide open and looking at James with a pleading look. He tried not to react strongly to his injuries; he knew Sirius wouldn't like it. He shut his mouth and slightly shook his head as if recovering from a vision that had left him dumbfounded.

“Wh – what happened?” He leaned forward and lightly pressed a hand to Sirius’ shoulder.

“J – James, I can't go back there.” 

His voice was barely a whisper. 

“I – I've nowhere to go,” he said taking his head in his hands. “I've nowhere to go!”

His voice broke. His bottom lip was trembling and there were tears in his eyes.

James had never seen his friend look so vulnerable. He felt as though someone was standing on his chest, crushing it. He wanted to say something, anything. Anything that would stop Sirius from looking like this. 

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Sirius, I – I -” He looked back at his shocked parents searching for help.

“James, I can’t go back there!” He was now shaking his head frantically.

He dissolved into tears and his shoulders started trembling uncontrollably. The feeling in James’ chest deepened. He wrapped his arms around Sirius’ shoulders and held on to him tight.

 

∞

 

James was sat at the kitchen table, opposite Sirius, glancing at him whenever he wasn’t looking.

He looked much better than what he had two hours ago. He was now sipping a cup of tea and had put on some of James’ muggle clothes. His face had almost gone back to its usual attractive state. Mrs. Potter – who had a knack of conjuring healing spells – had mended his injuries quite well. All that was left of them were two thin white lines where the cuts had been and a circle of pink skin around Sirius’ eye which still looked a bit sore.

Despite his friend’s healthier appearance, James couldn’t help the squirming sensation in his chest. He wasn’t thick enough to believe that a change of clothes and a cup of tea would magically make things better. He wanted to talk to Sirius, but he didn’t know where to start.

“So, er -” he said tentatively. “Care to explain what happened?

“No,” Sirius said not taking his eyes off his cup.

James frowned.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“What you heard,” he said pausing at every word.

James mouth fell slightly open.

“S – Sirius, you've got to tell me something!”

“Fine. I got cross with my parents and I ran away. End of story.”

James raised his eyebrows.

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

Sirius didn’t answer. He simply locked his eyes with James'. The latter crossed his arms.

“Listen, you can’t just barge into my house, half beaten to death and expect me not to ask you any questions.”

“You can’t expect me to give you any answers,” he sneered.

“Padfoot, you're not being fair,” James said in an accusing tone.

Sirius' body stiffened and the muscles in his face tightened.

“Fair? You think I'm not being fair?” He slammed his fist against the table and James jumped. “Damn it, Prongs! What's the matter with you?!”

He leaned back as far as possible into his chair _._

“Listen, that's not what I meant,” James said defensively. “I've just been worried sick about you! You don't owl me for days, you don't even use the mirror and then you come into my house in the middle of the biggest summer storm with your face all bloodied up and you expect me to ask nothing?!”

Sirius looked at him through narrowed eyes.

“Do you reckon they left me any choice?” he hissed. “They wouldn't leave me alone for a split second. They had the house elves track me down wherever I went! And there was no point going near any of the owls; Kreacher would go fetching my mother! And if they had caught me using the mirror I might as well have said goodbye to it!” His face had gotten patchy with red blotches. “Do you reckon this has been fair to me?!”

James opened his mouth to retort and then shut it.

Sirius got up making the wooden chair drag against the tile floor.

“That's what I thought.” He turned away and stormed out of the kitchen without a backward glance.

James sighed and dragged his hand down his face. He let his head fall on the table, judging whether to go after him or let him be. He went with the latter. He got up and dragged himself up the stairs to his room. Once inside, he flung himself into his bed hoping to fall asleep quickly. He didn't even bother to change into his pajamas.

 

∞

 

When he heard a knock at the door, James didn't know what time it was – or who was knocking for that matter. He just knew that it was either very late in the night or very early in the morning and that he had barely slept at all.

He heard the knocking again. He sighed and reached for his glasses. He peeled himself off the bed and started walking slowly to the door. When he opened it, last night’s events – which sleep had allowed him to forget at least temporarily – fell back onto him like a dead weight.

Sirius was standing in the doorway, looking very small, something to which James wasn't used to. Sirius usually took as much space as he could. He would walk swaying his arms all over the place or lounge on every possible surface stretching himself as wide as he could while still looking comfortable. Even when he stood still he would make a statement. People didn't usually miss him in a crowd. But this time, he looked different. He had shrunk into the smallest possible space he could occupy. His shoulders were slumped and his left hand was clutching his arm. He had trouble meeting James' gaze.

“Prongs, I – I -” He took a deep breath trying to steady his voice.

James walked into the room, wordlessly inviting him to come in, and sat on his bed. Sirius shut the door behind him, wiping his hands on his pants afterwards. He looked around him with darting eyes, as if looking for a place to sit and then started pacing.

“James, I – I don’t know what took over me!” he said running his fingers through his hair and breathing heavily. “I mucked it all up!”

James chest tightened while Sirius kept repeating the last sentence over and over again.

“Padfoot, look at me,” he said in a soothing tone. “Sirius, STOP!”

Sirius froze in his tracks and turned to James, not avoiding his gaze anymore.

“Sirius, I want to help you! I really do! But you've got to tell me what happened.” He looked at him with pleading eyes.

Sirius took a deep breath and clenched his fists to make them stop shaking.

“I – It's those bastards,” he said spitting the words. James immediately knew that he was talking about his parents. Sirius had picked up the habit over the last year of calling them by this endearing nickname. “You know how they are: completely mental with all that pureblood mania,” his voice seemed to become steadier as he started pacing again. “They were talking about muggleborns, and I walked in on them – but it's not like they've ever tried to hide their sick beliefs, they're always blabbering about how they think muggleborns are scum – and they were using that word, th – that blasted word.” He clenched his jaw and paused for a moment, taking deep, forced breaths. 

James’ brow furrowed. He remembered 11-year-old Sirius who used the word ‘mudblood’ freely, who thought himself superior to others who didn’t have the same magical heritage as him. He knew how hard it had been for Sirius to unlearn everything his parents had taught him and how guilty he felt about it now.

“And I – I don't know what took over me. I yelled at them; _really_ yelled at them. Told them they were the most repulsive, blinkered people I knew. Told them I hated being a part of their sick family a – and that I was ashamed of being a Black.” His hands started shaking again. “And my father got up and walked over to me – he was all red in the face, he looked at me as though I was the nastiest thing he'd ever seen – and he just slapped me. You should have seen the look on his face. He looked so proud of himself. He had this awful smile on his face... he enjoyed it so much he slapped me again, that bastard.”

“And then my idiot of a brother comes between us and my father just shoves him aside, without even looking at him. I look at my brother and he's sprawled on the floor,” he said talking much faster and taking quick breaths. “And his hands are all bloodied up and covered in shards because he's fallen over one of my mother's hideous vases, a – and I don't know what happened, but the next thing I know is that my hand is aching like mad a – and that my father's cheek is glowing red and he's looking at me like he's about to kill me.”

“A – and after that everything happened so fast. My mother's yelling something at me, but I can't hear what she's saying because my father's just punched me and my head is spinning and the next thing I feel is my back colliding with the wall because I'm being shoved against it. Then, my father, h-he starts throwing hexes at me and the cuts sting like hell, a – and -”

His voice broke.

“I – I wanted to protect him, James!” he said running his shaky fingers through his hair, his eyes glistening with tears. Sirius could barely spurt the words coming out of his mouth. “I really did, but I couldn't. I – I couldn't stay there!”

He sunk weak-kneed next to James.

“So I legged it. I run as fast as I can to the door and I hear my father running after me, cursing. And I'm crashing into all the furniture, but I somehow make it to the door, I blast it open a – and I change into Padfoot and I just run.

By the time he finished Sirius was trembling.

James was dumbfounded. He tried uttering an apology, telling him how sorry he was about all that had happened, how he didn't deserve the way those bastards treated him, how he should have never let him go back to that bloody place, but the moment the words left his mouth they all seemed empty to him. The only thing that didn't feel meaningless was putting an arm around him and telling him that he could live with him, that this was his house now and that he could stay for as long as he needed. For as long as he wanted.

 


	2. The Pensieve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previous chapter: Sirius runs away from home and James welcomes him in his.
> 
> This chapter: Sirius adapts to life at the Potters. Him and James take a trip down Memory Lane.

_James POV_

* * *

The next morning, Mr. and Mrs. Potter sat Sirius and James at the kitchen table demanding an explanation. Sirius managed to tell them enough so that they could understand why he had run away from home without going too much into detail.

His parents had reacted in just the perfect way, James thought.

“Merlin's bloody pants! That's no way to treat a son!” said Mrs. Potter fuming.

Sirius smiled weakly at her outrage. He looked down at his fidgeting hands.

Mr. Potter, who had been listening quietly, sighed and got up. He walked to a cupboard, grabbed four porcelain teacups with their respective saucers and placed them on the table. He then proceeded to boil some water in the kettle with a wave of his wand.

James had seen him do this innumerable times. He remembered one particular time, some seven years ago, where he had found his childhood friend, Marlene McKinnon, sulking in their garden. He carefully asked her what was wrong. She had taken a deep breath and, before he knew it, she started screaming about how her parents always defended her little sister, how they always thought everything was her fault, how the universe was plotting against her and how unfair it was all. During her energetic tirade, James' father came running out of the house, alerted by Marlene's drifting voice. He made both of them come back inside, sat them at the same table they were now and calmly asked them to explain themselves while he prepared some tea. He listened very intently to what Marlene had to say and didn't interrupt her once. He didn't even reprimand her for running away from home.

“You know you may stay here for as long as you wish?” said Mr. Potter, his brows knitted in a frown, while he served Sirius a cup of tea.

Sirius' hands fell still on the table as he looked up at Mr. Potter. The weak smile he had barely managed to give Mrs. Potter had completely vanished from his face. He seemed to be lost for words. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a strangled noise came out.

“Yes, of course!” said Mrs. Potter. “We'll set up you in an empty room close to James'.”

She reached for Sirius' hand. At the movement, Sirius went rigid and Mrs. Potter stopped in her tracks.

“Oh, I'm sorry! I -”

“N-no, er – it's fine,” he said weakly. “I'm just -”

But he couldn't continue. The words seemed to have been caught in his throat. He edged his hand closer to hers while trying to give her a reassuring smile and Mrs. Potter tentatively placed her hand on his. After a couple moments of silence, she cleared her throat.

“Did you find your room comfortable enough, dear?”

Sirius looked up startled.

“Er, yes,” he said softly. “It was perfect, thank you.”

“Do you have everything you need? Here, let me show you where the closest bathroom to your room is,” she said getting up and inviting Sirius to follow her. “It can be all yours if you want.”

James watched how Sirius trailed behind his mum and retreated out of the kitchen.

However, after that lucky start, James' parents seemed to forget how to act around Sirius. Something about the boy's dark mood troubled them, so they walked on eggshells whenever he was around. James had also asked them not to mention the war in front of Sirius, and that seemed to put them off their rhythm.

“We're having a right dreadful time in the office with a bloke from Basildon,” sighed Mrs. Potter over dinner after a long day of work. “He was found assailing Muggle children in a school playground. Would you believe he claims he was Imperiused?” she said with a tone of utter disbelief. “It's all balderdash if you ask me. We found a copy of the _Pureblood Directory_ in his -”

She stopped abruptly when she caught sight of Sirius shifting uncomfortably in his seat, while James and Mr. Potter shot her similar warning looks.

James was torn between being extra careful with him to make sure nothing upset him and just treating him like he usually would. He knew Sirius must have felt his nervousness because, after a couple of days, he locked himself in the room they had given him.

The days passed and Sirius didn't seem to be getting any better. He rarely came out of his room. The only time they saw him was during the meals where he dragged himself to the dining room and made polite however scarce conversation with the Potters. Sometimes, when he seemed particularly gloomy, he got out of the house and didn't come back for a couple of hours.

“You know it's not safe for him to go out all by himself. Anything could happen to him,” said Mrs. Potter glancing nervously at the window where she could still catch Sirius' silhouette ambling away from the house.

“I know,” James sighed. “But I can assure you he's better off going outside from time to time. He needs clear his head, you see. It's no good for him being locked in the house.”

“It _will_ be no good saying that to a Death Eater.”

“Honestly, I'm surprised he doesn't go out more often,” said Mr. Potter. “I'd surely be going mad in his place.”

Mrs. Potter gave a disapproving frown.

“The poor kid needs some space, Mia!” he added defensively. “And he's not daft, very far from it. I'm sure he knows what he's doing.”

James felt a rush of gratitude towards his father.

“Yeah! And weren't you the one saying that he was a big boy and that he could take care of himself!”

“That was _completely_ different. His parents might be mental, but they're not Death Eaters!”

“ _Pfft_ ,” he scoffed. “There as bad as.”

In truth, James knew that if Sirius stumbled upon a couple of Death Eaters, he would be grateful to do them some harm. Nevertheless, Sirius always returned home unscathed with a couple of muggle books. He would then spend the next few days reading them in his room. On one occasion, James had opened one of them and seen that they came from a bookstore in a muggle town close-by, but he didn't dare ask him about it.

James also tried popping his head inside Sirius' room every so often. He usually invited him to play Quidditch with him, which Sirius declined consistently. James eventually stopped asking him, because it made him feel utterly helpless. He spent hours pacing in the corridor in front of Sirius' door trying to think about something that he might be excited to do.

 _“_ Well, maybe we could go to Diagon Alley. _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ and _Gambol and Japes_ probably has neat things to see,” he muttered to himself “Er – better not. That place is more depressing than Azkaban these days _.”_

James didn't like twiddling his thumbs, but he soon came to realize that the only thing he could do was let Sirius be and inform him of where he was in case he ever needed anything. What James did was tell him _“I'll be in my room”_ or _“I'm going down to the garden”_ so he knew where to find him, to which Sirius always nodded numbly.

Eventually, although James felt like it had taken ages, Sirius stopped hiding in his room. At first he had seemed a bit awkward, not knowing where to go in the house or where to put himself. He would stand at the edge of a room looking embarrassed until someone invited him to sit down

“You know, Sirius, I never thought that desk was very comfortable,” said Mr. Potter with a smirk. “Almost seems you've jinxed yourself stuck to it.”

Sirius stood up with a jump.

“Oh, er… well -”

He rubbed the back of his neck. Mr. Potter chuckled.

“I'm only pulling your leg.” And with that, he opened the newspaper and disappeared behind it.

Sirius scratched his neck again, looking down at his shuffling feet.

James' eyes darted from Sirius to his father.

“There's enough room on the sofa for the three of us, you know,” came Mr. Potter's amused voice from behind the _Prophet_. “And it's awful comfortable too.”

"Oh, er – well, right.” And he staggered to the empty space on the couch.

Nonetheless, Sirius eventually started making himself at home. He would often plop himself in an armchair and read for a bit while still being open to conversation. He also had tea with the Potters and even animatedly took part in their chatting. Whenever he was bored, he wheedled anyone who was in the house to play chess with him.

“Come on now! You're a far better player than I am. I'd love to learn some of your techniques!”

He would then tease them mercilessly if he won. However, after a couple of games, this only worked with Mrs. Potter. Whenever Sirius tried this trick on Mr. Potter, James' father would smirk and tell him that he wouldn't fall for that one again, since he had been beaten by Sirius three times in a row. On the other hand, Mrs. Potter pushed her shoulders back importantly whenever Sirius told her that. To no one's surprise, she was also by far his favourite person to play with. She cursed whenever he was winning or whenever he made a great move.

“Oh, bollocks!”

“Muuuum!” James complained while Mr. Potter muffled a laugh.

In fact, she cursed during the whole game, which amused Sirius greatly. His bark-like laughter bounced off the walls of the empty corridors, making them vibrate and filling them as if that was the place it had always belonged.

To James' great pleasure, Sirius finally accepted to play Quidditch with him. They woke up early in the morning and, accompanied by a couple of house elves for security measure, walked for about a mile through the Potter's extensive flower garden and down the fields that encircled their house. Finally, after half an hour, they reached a small meadow that was surrounded by a hill and a bundle of trees that would keep them from the Muggles' curious eyes.

They tried coaxing the house elves into playing with them or charming the ball so it flew by itself, but their attempts were fruitless, since Mrs. Potter had strictly told them to stand guard. Abandoning all hope, James and Sirius tried being Chasers, Beaters and Keepers, all at the same time. James passed the ball to Sirius, who then hit it with all his might to try and knock James down and, when the latter swerved and caught it, he flew in front of a circle shaped tree branch that served as a goal hoop before James tried scoring. They swapped positions, throwing the bat at each other and catching it swiftly in midair while they swooshed and swirled in the air so fast that the only thing a passerby would be able to see were two blurred stain-like figures.

'Oi, Prongs! You certain you've seen a Quaffle in your life?” Sirius said with glee after a particularly difficult throw from his part. “Seems as though your moves have gotten a bit wanky! Might as well play _sans_ hands if you ask me!”

“That's the thing, Padfoot,” he said flying down to the ground to pick up the Quaffle he had just dropped. “Nobody asked you!”

He hurled the ball at Sirius which hit him straight in the face thanks to his excellent aim. Sirius' eyes widened in shock and his mouth opened dramatically as the ball came inches from his face, which made him look so ridiculous that James fell off his broom from laughing too hard. He later spent the entire dinner mimicking Sirius' face to his amused parents until the latter started pelting him with bits of carrots which got stuck in James' mop of hair. James, who never missed a chance to cause trouble, started pelting him back, but when Mr. Potter caught his wife reaching for her wand with a look of mischief not unlike James' gleaming in her eyes, he quickly vanished all the food with a wave of his wand before the situation got out of hand.

Despite Sirius' improvement, James didn't fool himself into believing that everything was back to normal. Sometimes, at the end of the day, when Sirius' cheery mask faded, he would look so worn out like he had forgotten he had to pretend everything was alright.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter who weren't as perceptive as James with Sirius' state of mind, thought that he was feeling better, and were less and less to be seen in the house. They had kept themselves busy with paperwork at home to be able to look after the two boys, but were now needed at the office full time. James, who had gotten used to seeing them around, was surprised by their sudden absence. Disappointment fell into his stomach like a brick, but he tried dismissing the feeling. He couldn't blame them of course. They had much more urgent matters to attend to at the Ministry with the war going on than looking after two moody teenagers, which meant that they went to work before James and Sirius got up and came home after they went to sleep.

On one particular parentless morning, James walked down to the dining room where Sirius was sat reading the _Prophet_. His breakfast lay untouched in front of him. 

James rubbed his eyes trying to chase the sleepiness from them.

“Alright, mate?” he said yawning.

Sirius frowned and said nothing.

James sat down opposite him. At that exact moment, a delicious smell of eggs, bacon, porridge, toast and sausages burst through the open door, to which James' stomach answered noisily. The scent was followed closely by Pokey the house-elf scurrying into the room. She was carrying a tray full of mounds of dishes and a glass pitcher of orange juice. James wondered how the house elf's thin arms didn't snap under the weight of all the piled food that he would never try eating in his right mind.

“Thank you very much, Pokey. You've outdone yourself.” James said with a smile as she lay the tray in front of him. The Potters had been exceptionally careful of being kind and patient with her since the incident with Sirius, which had left her feeling very shaken.

Her bat-like ears wiggled with contentment.

“It's Pokey's pleasure, young master.” She gave a deep bow and then scuttled out of the room.

James looked at the open pages of the _Prophet_. He sighed as he skimmed through the front page.

 _“_ _**TERROR STRIKES AGAIN** _ _... 17 Muggles found dead... Policemen (muggle Aurors) alerted by the Dark Mark... intervention by the Auror Office and the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee... Suspect_ _ed_ _Death Eaters include: Marc Jugson, Cairo Gibbon and Bellatrix Lestrange (née Black)... for full article, turn to page 5”_

James shook his head. He didn't need to ask to know which page Sirius was on. He knew that anyone from school that read the paper would immediately associate Bellatrix with Sirius and hoped that it wouldn't affect him to badly.

The pages of the _Prophet_ quivered as Sirius dropped it on the table. He got up making the chair scrape against the wooden floor.

"Arf phew finifed eafing?" James said through a mouthful of eggs. His brow creased at Sirius' stony-faced expression.

"Not hungry."

James hastily swallowed his food.

"But… you haven't even touched your food!"

But Sirius had already disappeared through the door, leaving it wide open behind him.

James shook his head while stabbing a sausage with his fork. He debated whether to go after him or not, but his grumbling stomach decided for him. Besides, Sirius probably wanted to be alone for a while.

 

∞

 

James knocked twice on Sirius' bedroom door.

“Sirius? Are you in there?”

Silence.

He twisted the doorknob and poked his head inside.

“Sirius?”

There wasn't a soul in the room.

The four poster bed lay empty, its curtains tied, the sheets creaseless. The house-elves had already tidied the room because the cushions appeared to be as fluffy as clouds and there wasn't a single object cluttering the room. In fact, it looked as if nobody actually lived there. James frowned and closed the door.

“Oh, Siiiriuuuuus,” he said in a singsong voice, ambling down the second floor corridor and lazily peering through the doors. "Not playing hide and seek are y-?"

He stopped short in front of the open double doors of the library. He peeped inside. There, at the rear of the room, stood Sirius, his back to the door. He was facing a wooden, ornate bookshelf that covered the whole wall, on which rows and rows of yellow-paged books were visible, eagerly waiting to be opened. Nevertheless, Sirius wasn't paying any attention to them. He was looking straight ahead of him. His gaze seemed to be fixed on a square, glass-doored compartment that stood between several books. James knew exactly what lay in it. It was a shallow stone basin engraved with runes and fitted with precious stones. He had seen his parents use it innumerable times, pouring into it with the tip of their wands a silvery substance that was neither quite like liquid nor gas.

Sirius opened the cabinet and the silver light emanating from the Pensieve feebly lit the library. He leaned in as if trying to see better. Before James could say anything, Sirius had stuck his face in the basin and leapt head first into the bright swirl of memories. James took four long-legged strides along a chesterfield, past a wooden desk and followed suit. He felt his feet leave the floor as he was propelled into the sifting silvery mass. Cold darkness crept unto his skin making the hairs on his neck stand up until his feet landed on hard ground.

He landed in a spacious room, a couple feet behind Sirius. James looked up at the opposite wall where a big glass window let a glimpse of what seemed to be a perfect spring day. Warm yellow daylight filtered through the glass and light up the whole room so that James had too blink repeatedly before his eyes adjusted properly to their new entourage. At each side of the room, stood a row of single beds, each one of them separated by a drawn curtain. Portraits of different sizes hung on the oak-paneled walls at irregular intervals.

At first sight, James thought that they had landed in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, but immediately dismissed the idea. The room looked nothing like it apart from the hospital beds. He looked around and his attention was caught by gleaming crystal bubbles cluttering the center of the ceiling.

St Mungo's. That's where they were.

His stomach gave a nervous churn at the thought of who his parents' knew that had been in the hospital. Before he could give it too much thought, he heard footsteps coming from the back of the room.

James looked around. It was a Healer. She had short blond hair and was wearing the usual lime green robe with St Mungo's crest on it: a sign of a wand and a bone crossing at their middle. She walked directly towards the bed where a couple sat, closest to James and Sirius.

James felt as if a brick had dropped in his stomach. The couple he had noticed were in fact his mum and dad. They looked about the same as they did now – tall and thin – apart from the fact that Mr. Potter's hair was less white-streaked and both their faces were marked by fewer wrinkles.

James staggered closer to the bed, still making sure his presence was unnoticed by Sirius.

“Mr. and Mrs. Potter, right?” said the Healer smiling at the Potters.

They nodded in unison.

The Healer looked down at the clipboard she was holding in her hands.

“Well, we've just checked the test results and it seems that you are, in fact, with child.”

The Potters reactions could not have been anymore different. Mrs. Potter looked like they had told her that Pokey had been elected for Minister for Magic. Mr. Potter, on the other hand, had the expression of a person who appeared to have just been hit on the head by a brick. His eyes seemed to be lost in thought and there was a small smile creeping into his face.

Mrs. Potter quickly recovered from the shock.

“But how is this possible? I mean... I'm not exactly in the prime of my life!”

“We were quite surprised ourselves, but it seems that you're some sort of exception. A stroke of luck.”

“But... how could I have a child! I – I'm too old for Merlin's sake!”

“Well, it most definitely won't be an easy pregnancy,” she said shuffling her papers. “But, I can assure you, that we will do the best we can to make it the least arduous for you and your...” The Healer looked at Mr. Potter, her expression torn between concern and amusement. “... husband. Mr. Potter? Are you alright?”

Mr. Potter's eyes refocused as if recovering from a reverie.

“M-me? I'm marvelous. Absolutely smashing!” He had a silly sort of smile on his face and his eyes were brighter than usual. “I, er – sorry. What were you saying?”

“You're going to have a child,” said the Healer no longer hiding her amusement.

Mr. Potter smiled wider than what would have been considered physically possible.

The scene dissolved as James finally started breathing normally.

Nothing bad had happened to his parents.

They landed this time in a room that James knew like the back of his hand.

Two people were sitting at the end of a long, dark-wooded table that stood right under an intricate chandelier. One side of the room was lined with big glass windows draped with thick and expensive looking curtains. Opposite to it, stood a red marble chimney lit with a crackling fire.

They were in the Potters' dining room.

James decided it was time for Sirius to know he was there and strolled over to where he stood.

“Hey,” he said, his hands in pockets.

“Oh... Hi.” Sirius' eyebrows barely twitched. For someone who had been caught looking into someone else's private belongings, he seemed quite calm and unflustered. He had no trouble meeting James' eyes.

“I wasn't planning on nosing around, by the way,” he after a moment's hesitation. “I saw your face in the Pensieve and I couldn't help but have a look.”

“Forget about it,” James said waving his hand dismissively. “I used to do it all the time as a kid. Drove my parents mad.” He chuckled.

Sirius smirked.

“Your mum's looking rather big.” he said nodding at the far end of the table where Mr. and Mrs. Potter sat.

As a matter of fact, it looked like Mrs. Potter would be due very soon.

They walked closer to where James' parents were sitting.

They were both pouring over a long scroll of parchment with what seemed to be a complicated family tree drawn on it.

Mrs. Potter sighed and ran a thin hand through her black hair, messing up her elaborate hairdo in the process.

“All these names are horribly old-fashioned! _Linfred_? _Hardwin_? We can't possibly name him after any of these people!”

Mr. Potter rolled up the parchment and pushed it aside.

“You know, maybe we needn't name him after an ancestor he's never known.”

Mrs. Potter looked up at him, holding her chin on the palm of her hand, while her other hand absentmindedly stroked her round belly.

“I saw a name in the _Prophet_ a few days ago,” he continued. “I didn't think much of it then, but it's sort of grown on me.”

Hope of finishing this tedious work seemed to have revived Mrs. Potter. She was now standing upright, her eyes wide open with interest.

“What was it?”

There was a moment of silence.

“James.”

“James...” Her eyes flew upwards as if trying to picture the name in her mind. “James... You know what? I like it!”

Mr. Potter smiled.

“It's settled then.”

“Er, not quite.”

“What's the matter?”

“I think he should have a second name,” she paused for a second and gave him a small grin. “Fleamont. Like his father.”

Mr. Potter beamed brighter than the sun.

“Wait a mo-”

“But my grandmother will never forgive me if we don't also name him after her father,” she added before he could say anything “She might even come haunt us. I've heard she sometimes gets bored, wandering around in that abandoned castle.” She paused letting out a dramatic sigh. “I'm afraid we're also going to have to call him Elwood.”

Mr. Potter wasn't fast enough at hiding the look of disgust on his face which made Mrs. Potter let out her characteristic ebullient laugh.

“ _Elwood_?” said Mr. Potter trying to muffle a laugh. “As in _Ruler of the Elves_? _Fleamont Elwood_? He'll hate us!”

“Oh, he needn't know.” She waved her hand dismissively and continued laughing.

James' mouth fell open.

_Elwood? What in the bloody hell were they thinking?_

He heard strangled laughter coming from his left and turned his face in time to see Sirius bent in half and holding his sides.

“Elwood? James Fleamont Elwood Potter?” he barked between two laughs. “All hail to thee, Sir James Fleamont Potter, Ruler of the Elves!”

“Oh, shut it,” he said failing to hide the smile creeping on his face. He playfully shoved Sirius who toppled over and burst into another wave of laughter.

“Elwood! Oh, Elwood! I can't believe it!”

Something peculiar then happened.

Then scene dissolved, but not like it usually did.

Sirius' laughter immediately died out.

There were flashes this time. Numerous waves of memories. They rose around James and Sirius, slowly extending their silvery arms and then pulling back in a heartbeat as if they were being sucked into themselves by an invisible force. The silver light was blinding. James could hardly see anything around him. He squinted in order to see better and turned on the spot. A memory suddenly flushed down in front of him.

He saw his father. Time seemed to slow down. The swirls of silvery mass around them stopped in their tracks and started floating lazily around James.

Mr. Potter was standing in an empty void, cradling what appeared to be his newborn son. James was fast asleep in his father's arms. You could almost notice the slow and delicate rising and falling of his tiny chest, the feeble fluttering of his eyelashes and the faintest movement of Mr. Potter's rocking arms. James felt a strange calmness seizing him. A sort of pleasant fatigue crept unto his eyelids and he shook his head to chase it away.

He noticed his past self had a surprisingly large amount of hair. He smiled to himself and looked at his father. Mr. Potter carefully tightened a blanket around his son's body.

James had never seen him move so cautiously. All his movements were soft and deliberate. It seemed as if he was holding the most fragile thing that could break at the lightest draft of air. He was looking at his son with the most profound affection James had ever seen. His eyes were shining brightly and there was a small smile tugging at he corners of his mouth. It was as if nothing else in the whole universe was as important as the tiny person snuggled in his arms. In that exact instant, he seemed at peace with everything.

James heard shuffling behind him. His mind snapped out of the hypnotising scene. He turned around and saw Sirius walking towards him through the shifting, silver mass of unmaterialised thoughts.

His eyes were fixed on the scene in front of them. He had a strange look on his face, James thought. His bottom lips fell very slightly and his eyes shone brighter than usual. But it was a very sad gleam. Nothing like the one he had just seen in his father's eyes.

Sirius stopped next to him, his eyes transfixed on the memory in front of them.

“You all right?” James asked.

Sirius swallowed hard and nodded.

And as fast as James' father had appeared, he was sucked out of existence again.

Time's speed picked up again. Streams of silver light engulfed them in their rapid movements. James only caught glimpses of the scenes shown in them before they disappeared. He noticed he was in almost every single one of them.

He saw himself as a baby dancing in his mother's arms. Bursting out in lively laughter at her sudden attack of tickles. Proudly smiling up at his father's chuckling face with a two-toothed grin. He saw himself clumsily learning to walk. Hobbling towards his father's expectant arms on his short unsteady legs. Being caught by him before he fell.

_“Steady there, Jamie.”_

He saw himself laughing at his reflection in a mirror, his mop of hair spiked up with water and his grinning parents behind him looking at each other like they were the luckiest people alive. He saw himself fighting his way through an enormous pile of Christmas presents. Ripping at the wrapping paper of his brand-new broomstick. He saw his father's unwavering smile behind the flaring camera. His mother's hair falling onto his face while she wrapped her protective arms around him.

He smiled at his past and glanced at Sirius.

James chest tightened. He looked even worse than before.

They had to get out of here.

James grabbed him by the arm and started pulling him through the endless cloud of thoughts, searching for an escape. Sirius gave no resistance.

A memory suddenly poured down in front of them, blocking their way.

It was his parents. They seemed to be sitting down at a table, but there was no furniture around them. Only emptiness. A white echoing void, just like in his father's memory.

Their mouths were moving, but their voices were almost imperceptible. It was like trying to hear something through a thick glass window that blocked out all the noise. James almost felt suffocated by it.

He could tell the atmosphere was tense. His parents seemed to be arguing. His mother kept waving her arms while she talked and running a hand through her hair.

James looked at his father. He was sliding a hand down his tired face. He opened his mouth to speak and his voice suddenly burst through the air, shattering the silence.

“Mia, nothing horrible can happen to James,” he said soothingly. “He's under Dumbledore's guard. Would you rather he stay at home when Dumbledore's protection is worth fifty of ours?”

“Of course I wouldn't! But the people were fighting against, Fleamont, their children are in that bloody school! Their children are walking freely down those corridors and heavens knows what they're up to! Imagine what sorts of things their parents have taught them! These people are completely mental! Just last week an old looney proposed a bill to make Muggle-hunting legal! Imagine having her children attending classes with James!”

“I'm no more happy about it then you are. But Dumbledore is the best chance we have at keeping our children safe." He reached for her hand and held it tight. "We've got to trust him.”

And with those last few words echoing through the air, the memory dissolved.

An impenetrable darkness suddenly engulfed them. James couldn't even see his own hands.

He suddenly felt like he had been shot from a catapult. It seemed as though his stomach had been left on the ground while he blindly flew through the air.

The next thing he felt was his shoulder painfully colliding against the parquet. He heard Sirius groaning next to him.

James looked up.

They were back in the library.


	3. Mr. and Mrs. Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previous chapter: Sirius and James traveled through the Potter's memories in their Pensieve.
> 
> This chapter: Shit goes down in the Black household.

_James POV_

* * *

         Before James could have said 'Quidditch', Sirius had leaped up elegantly and bolted out of the library.

         “Merlin's pants, Sirius! Wait a second!” said James picking himself up.

         He ran out into the wood-paneled corridor.

         “Sirius, just wait! Stop being such a -”

         James collided against Sirius' back and stumbled back.

         “Stop being such a what?” he said facing him.

         James glanced down at Sirius' clenched fists and instinctively held himself straighter.

         “Just stop playing the victim! Stop dramatically walking out of a room because you know I will follow you out!

         Sirius' jaw clenched.

         “You think every time I do it it means I'm begging for your comfort because mummy and daddy didn't love me enough? Dammit James! I didn't ask for any of this to happen!

         He smiled viciously.

         “You know that old looney your mum was talking about? The one that proposed a bill to make muggle hunting legal? She's part of the family! Good old cousin Araminta! You can see a bit of my mother in her, eh?”

         James' mouth fell open.

         “Why didn't you tell me?”

         “Oh, yeah, because I want to shout from the rooftops that I'm related to those lunatics! Wouldn’t you?”

         He took a deep breath.

         “I didn't ask for any of this, James! I didn't...”

         James heard the words coming out of Sirius' mouth without truly listening to them. He watched as once again his friend paced in front of him while mouthing angrily.

         He knew they needed to do something. The image of Sirius' empty room came to his mind and a lightbulb went off in his head.

         “Get back at them,” he said calmly.

         Sirius froze in his tracks and stared at him.

         “Sorry?”

         “I said, get back at them.”

         Sirius scoffed.

         “Oh, believe me. I've thought about it. All the ways I could get revenge. But unfortunately they would all lend me in Azkaban.”

         James rolled his eyes.

         “Go big or go home, right?”

         Sirius glared at him. James smirked.

         He patiently waited cross-armed, holding Sirius' stare. A few moments passed before Sirius chuckled and shook his head.

         “What have you got in mind, then?”

         James looked smugly at his nails.

         “Oh, you know. This and that. Nothing much.”

         “Don't make me draw it out of you,” Sirius said crossing his arms.

         “I'd like to see you try.”

         “Fine, fine, fine,” he said holding his palms up. “I'll just walk away dramatically – I know you adooore this habit of mine – so you can come running after me.

         Sirius intertwined his fingers behind his back and started whistling while he slowly ambled down the candlelit corridor. He didn't fail to nudge his friend with his shoulder when he passed by him.

         James rolled his eyes again.

         “Come back here.”

         “Sorry?” said Sirius putting a hand behind his ear. “I didn't catch that.”

         “Well, maybe it's because you can't hear anything over the sound of your loud, obnoxious strut, ya git.”

         “Sticks and stones, Prongsie. Sticks and stones,” Sirius said in a singsong tone.

         James snorted.

         “Yeah, no words can penetrate that thick skull of yours to possibly cause any harm.”

         Sirius opened his mouth to retort.

         “Oh, put a sock in it just a second and hear me out. Here's the plan.”

         James lowered his voice to a whisper which made Sirius lean towards him.

         “We go to your parents house, break and enter into it, nick some of your stuff and Bob's your uncle!

         Sirius threw his head back in amusement.

         “That's your brilliant plan?”

         “What's wrong with it?”

         “Honestly, I would expect something a bit more flamboyant from you, Prongs. I'm a bit disappointed,” he teased him.

         “Well, I didn't say we had to leave immediately after nicking your stuff. We could always manage a little mischief.”

         He wiggled his eyebrows.

         “Imagine it,” James said his eyes wide open with excitement. “You can get back at them right under their noses and they'll be completely in the dark about it! We've got the Invisibility Cloak! They won’t understand what's happening!”

         “I've got to say, Prongs... I like your mindset,” he said mirroring James’ mischievous smile.

         “I knew you would. Anyway, now we've got to think about how we get there. You said your parents live in London, right?”

         Sirius nodded.

         “12 Grimmauld Place, Borough of Islington, London, England.” He curtsied while pulling out the sides of an invisible skirt.

         James started marching down the corridor while ignoring Sirius' theatrical antics to which he was much too familiarised to notice anymore.

         “Well, we can't fly there, it could take us ages. Plus, we would probably get lost a few times too if we ever managed to even get there.” He absentmindedly started rubbing his chin. “Floo powder is also off the table. It doesn't exactly allow a discreet entrance. I think we should probably -”

         “Call the Knight Bus!” said Sirius who had caught up with James' pace.

         “Took the words right out of my mouth!”

        

         ∞

 

         James tiptoed out onto the threshold. He slowly pulled the creaking, heavy door shut behind him. He looked into the glass window next to the door, his brows knitted together, hoping that the house elves hadn't heard him.

         “Oi, Prongs!”

         James jumped.

         “What are you waiting for?” said Sirius standing between the open iron gates.

         James rolled his eyes, slung the leather messenger bag where he had stashed the invisibility cloak across his chest and jogged towards Sirius.

         “What have you got in there?” Sirius said nodding at the bag.

         “Just things that might come in handy.”

         Sirius raised his eyebrows and James' uncomprehending answer and shrugged.

         Together, they marched passed the gates towards the dirt road that lead to the nearest muggle village until they were sure the house elves wouldn't see them from the house. They stopped in front of an abandoned farm. Then, with identical sharp movements, they stuck their wands in the air. After only a few seconds, a purple dot appeared in the horizon, getting bigger and bigger at an outlandish speed. It rushed down the dirt road pushing trees, farms and houses out of its way. With a smell of burned tires and the screeching of brakes, the bus came to a halt in front of them.

         “Greetings, Mr. Ernie Prang!” James said waving excessively at the man in the driver's seat.

         Sirius bowed.

         “How do you do, Mr. Ernie Prang? How’s the Missus?”

         “Who are you? How do you know my name?” said the targeted man, an elderly, bespectacled wizard who strongly resembled an owl.

         Sirius lifted his hands in front of him.

         “Now, now, Mr. Ernie Prang. There’s no use for fretting.”

         “How do you know my name?”

         “Well, that’s simple enough, Mr. Ernie Prang,” said James. “They asked us to write a whole foot of parchment at Hogwarts on who our hero is…”

         “… And we chose you.”

         Sirius winked.

         “You two chaps pulling my leg? Don’t want no trouble on my bus!”

         “Mr. Ernie Prang!” said James with a would-be offended look on his face.

         “All we want is a ride on the famous Knight Bus!” Sirius said petting the side of the vehicle.

         “Where to?” Ernie growled. “No place underwater.”

         “12 Grimmauld Place, Borough of Islington, London, England,” they said in unison and curtsied.

         “Fine. Get in. Any luggage?”

         “No, Mr. Ernie Prang,” they both answered.

         “Good. If you want anythin’ else, it’s thirteen sickles for a cuppa hot chocolate, fifteen sickles for a hot water bottle and a toothbrush.”

         “Doesn't the conductor usually say all that?” Sirius said.

         The driver glared at him.

         “Sacked him.”

         “Well, I guess there's a vacancy, isn't there, Padfoot?”

         “Alright there is! Do you think we'll be up to the task, Prongs?”

         “I said I didn't want no trouble!”

         “Oh, but we won't cause any trouble, Padfoot, won't we?”

         “None at all! Quite _au contraire_! We'll keep the passengers happy! And we'll do it for free!”

         Ernie frowned. James could tell that he was deliberating between either getting them out of his hair or accepting to have them work for free.

         “Fine,” he said after a few moment's hesitation. “But the second you two chaps start causing trouble, you're out!”

         “Yes, Mr. Ernie Prang!” they said.

         “And stop doing that!”

         “Doing what?” they asked innocently.

         “Speaking at the same time. It's spooky.”

         “Yes, Mr. Ernie Prang!”

         Ernie grumbled in response.

         James hopped into the vehicle. Once inside, the smell of sweat and hot air whipped him in the face. He coughed.

         “Why is he letting in more people!” he heard an old lady say. “There isn't room to swing a kneazle!”

         “This place is a safety hazard!” a man said from the back of the bus.

         Sirius chuckled.

         “Seems like business is blooming for you, Ern!”

         Ernie muttered something unintelligible over the complaints of the other passengers and the hooting, meowing and hissing of their pets.

         “What did he say?” shouted James.

         “Something about people not wanting to travel alon -”

         But the rest of Sirius' sentence was cut off by Ernie's sudden hit of the brakes. James fell onto the person in front of him, his bag slapping against his back.

         “Oi!” came a small, high-pitched voice from underneath him.

         James disentangled his limbs from Sirius' and jumped to his feet. He looked down. There, a little boy lay rubbing his foot. He frowned at James.

         “You stepped on me, you did!” the little boy said gathering all the courage he could manage. “You've never been payin' attention to us kids, have you?”

         James laughed.

         “Well, I'm terribly sorry, little one!” He pulled him up to his feet. “I didn't, by any means, intend to offend any children. What's your name?”

         The little boy pushed his shoulders back.

         “Stan. Stan Shunpike, that is.”

         “And how old are you, Stan Shunpike?”

         “I'm three! And someday, I'm gon' be conductin' the Knight Bus, I am! Nuffink gon' stop me!”

         “Well, Mr. Prang and I are thick as thieves, you see,” James said pointing his thumb towards the driver. “I could put a good word for you with the old Ern'.”

         Stan's eyes widened with excitement.

         James felt as though he had just run into something solid as the bus came to another brutal stop. He quickly grabbed hold of Stan's wrist and of one of the ceiling metal bars. The other passengers, not being born with the same chaser-reflexes as James, were now noisily picking themselves up from the floor.

         “Now, little Stan,” said Sirius dusting himself off. “Watch and learn.”

         And with that he headed towards the opened door. James rubbed his shoulder which felt like it had been dislocated and followed him onto the open-air platform. He looked at the man who had hailed the Knight Bus. He was lying on the ground, his belongings, consisting of bags, trunks and pouches of different sizes and colours, spilled all around him.

         Sirius and James looked at each other for a moment and nodded. In half a second's time, they had jumped into their roles. They linked their arms together and snapped a sharp salute.

         “Welcome to the Knight Bus!” James said.

         “Emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard,” Sirius added with a flourish of his free hand.

         James glanced at Stan who was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. He grinned and dived back into his role.

         “My name is James Potter...” he said doffing an invisible hat.

         “And mine is Sirius Black...”

         “And we will be your conductors this morning.”

         The man on the ground cleared his throat which made them both look down at him.

         “What in Merlin's name are you doing on the ground, sir?” said Sirius faking his concern.

         “I fell over!”

         “Well, why did you fall over?”

         The man frowned.

         “I di'n! I was pushed by a bleedin' -”

         “Well, come on now!” said James giving the man a hand, which he immediately regretted. “Let's not wait for the grass to grow under our feet!”

         He discreetly wiped his hands on his trousers.

         “Under our arse in this case,” said Sirius leaning against the bus.

         Once on his bandy legs, James noticed how short the man actually was. He had long, disheveled ginger hair and wore a bulky, brown coat.

         “May we help you with your luggage, sir?” James asked.

         The man jumped in front of his belongings, blocking their way.

         “No! Er, I mean, I can do it meself.”

         He turned around and quickly started stuffing his packages into his coat, occasionally eyeing Sirius and James behind his back.

         “Where to?” Sirius asked drumming his fingers against his arm.

         “No place underwater, unless you know how to pay for it,” James said rubbing the tips of his right hand fingers together.

         The man turned around suddenly. He held his coat closer to himself.

         “What d'you want? Gold?”

         “No! Padfoot! Do we want gold?”

         “No, no, no,” he said yawning lazily. “But we could really do with some chocolate frogs...” he said squinting at the cloudy sky. “Or some acid pops... maybe even some Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder...”

         The man went livid.

         “Instant Darkness Powder? W – what d'you want that for?”

         “Oh, I don't know,” Sirius said shrugging. “Always wanted to try some. Could be fun.”

         “Stop messin' with the passengers, ya tikes!” came Ernie's impatient voice.

         James and Sirius jumped back into military posture.

         “Yes, Mr. Ernie Prang!”

         The red-headed man took this opportunity to scuttle onto the platform.

         “Here,” he said thrusting a small pouch into James' hand. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. You di'n get it from me.”

         And with that, he scurried into the sea of passengers.

         James looked at him disappearing, his face vacillating between delight and surprise.

         “What did he want?” said Sirius grabbing the small pouch.

         “He just gave me Instant Darkness Powder. Said we didn't get it from him.”

         He lifted the slap of his bag. Sirius sniffed the pouch which made him scrunch his nose. After a second's thought, he shrugged.

         “Doesn't seem to dodgy,” he said handing it back to James who made sure the knot was tight around it before dropping it in the bag. “What was he being all sneaky for?”

         “Beats me,” said James. “It isn't illegal or dangerous as far as I know.”

         Sirius shrugged.

         “Maybe he acquired it illegally. Wanted to get rid of it.” he paused for a few seconds. “Anyway! I'm glad we have it! I never say no to experimenting with new stuff!”

         James looked down at Stan who was pulling on the sleeve of his trousers.

         “What's that he's givin' ya?” he said standing on his tiptoes.

         “Now, that's none of your concern.”

         Stan frowned.

         “But -”

         “Did you take good notes on how to conduct a bus, little Stan?” James said changing the subject. “Next stop it will be your turn.”

         Immediately forgetting about his previous question, Stan started jumping excitedly and showing James everything he had scribbled on his parchment.

 

 

∞

 

 

“That was lovely!” said Sirius sliding off the platform. “See you in a jiff, Ern'!”

         “Just geroff my bus already!”

         “Yes, Mr. Ernie Prang!” James said hopping off.

         With a loud bang, Ernie stomped on the gas and fled. James staggered away from the bus and onto the sidewalk, tripping with the curb in the process. He straightened himself and took a look at his surroundings. Around him stood identical looking brick-built buildings, each four stories high. They had landed right in front of a park, from which a muggle and his two children were now getting out through a black iron gate.

         “But, Padfoot,” he said staring at the three passersby. This is a muggle neighbourhood!”

         Sirius didn't answer. James turned around looking for him.

         “Padfoot?”

         He had crossed the road, onto the opposite sidewalk where he was now staring up at a door with the number twelve fixed on it in cursive silver numbers. James ran towards him. He grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the ground behind a muggle car.

         “Oi!” Sirius said rubbing his wrist. “What in Merlin's beard are you doing?”

         James crouched next to him.

         “They might see us,” he whispered. “We need a plan. A more detailed plan,” he added after Sirius started mouthing angrily. “You know better what sorts of spells your parents have put on the house. How are we going to get in?”

         “Through the front door.”

         And with that, he got up and, hands in his pockets, dawdled to the entrance stone steps.

         James rolled his eyes. He jerked open his bag and threw the invisibility cloak over himself. He watched as Sirius stopped in front of door and pressed the doorbell.

         A grave sound rang through the air.

         “Sirius! What are you doing?”

         James ran to him and flung the cloak over both of them.

         “This isn't necessary, Prongs!” he said fighting James attempt of covering them.

         “Will you just tell me what your extraordinary plan is instead of being so pigheaded?”

         Their trashing around was interrupted by a slow, gravelly voice.

         “Who's there?”

         James, still holding Sirius' arms, looked down at the house-elf standing in the open doorway. The creature squinted at the empty space in front of him and sniffed the air with his snout-like nose. James took a step back.

         “Who's there!”

         “Let me pass, Kreacher.” Sirius said with a self-assured voice.

         The house-elf's bloodshot eyes widened in recognition.

         “You!” he spat, his eyes burning with hatred. “How dare you return as bold as brass to my masters' house! How dare you make Kreacher follow your orders! A stain of dishonour to my mistress you are! A blood traitor!”

         “Let me pass.” Sirius' voice had grown bigger.

         To James surprised, the house-elf stepped aside.

         “Stay where you are,” said Sirius.

         As if he had used magic, Kreacher's feet remained glued to the floor. The house-elf opened his mouth and breathed in as if to shout.

         “Shut up.” Sirius hissed. “You will let us pass and you won't, by any means of communication whatsoever, inform anyone or anything inside or outside of this house that I am here. And you won't disturb me in whatever I'm about to do. Understood?”

         Kreacher nodded slowly, squinting his eyes.

         James felt Sirius's hand tapping on his elbow as he watched, his mouth agape, how Kreacher jolted his head and fists angrily.

         “It's safe to go.”

         He peeled his eyes from the house-elf, shook his head and followed Sirius into a long hallway. He had a look around him. Despite the gas lamps hanging along the wall and the chandelier dangling from the ceiling, it was a strangely gloomy place. The light didn't seem to be able to lift the thick darkness that hovered in the entrance. He glanced down at an eerie troll-leg umbrella stand and frowned. After adjusting the cloak around them, he wiped his hands on his trousers.

         “Shut the door, Kreacher.”

         Slam!

         James jumped.

         “Now go about your usual business.”

         James pushed himself to a side. He watched the elf storm off into a room on the side of the corridor from which the sound of unintelligible chitchat could be heard. They walked passed it with hurried steps.

         “Sirius...”

         “What?”

         “That house-elf... he -”

         He glanced at him and his voice trailed off. Sirius was completely alert to everything around him. All his steps, all his movements seemed to be calculated. He kept checking behind him. Wherever a noise was made, his eyes flew to the spot instantly. James was surprised at how hardened his face looked. He was immediately reminded of Sirius' animagus form.

         James couldn't help but feel watered down by the atmosphere in the house.

         He stepped on a creaky floorboard and cringed.

         “Walk behind me.”

         He did as he was told and made sure the cloak could still cover them while Sirius guided him down the corridor. At the end of it, a staircase lead to the first floor. Sirius started climbing it. James followed. He looked up and almost missed a step. A row of shrunken House-elf heads were mounted on silver plaques along the wall.

         “Family tradition,” said Sirius reading his mind.

         James mouth fell open. He couldn't take his eyes off the grotesque display in front of him while climbing up the stairs. His lips curled at the sight of the empty eye sockets staring down at him, but his gaze remained glued to the heads until it was too uncomfortable for him to crane his neck. Once on the first floor, he followed Sirius down a smaller corridor and up another staircase. They walked up two more staircases until they arrived at the topmost landing. It had only two doors. The one on the right hand side had a sign on it which read _Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black_ , while the other one had a simple gold nameplate with Sirius’ name on it. They headed towards the latter. Once inside, James lay the cloak and his bag next to the door while Sirius silently closed it behind them. He took his wand out of his pocket and pointed it at the doorknob.

         “ _Colloportus_.”

         The lock clicked.

         James wasn’t alarmed by the sight of Sirius performing underage magic. They had both figured out a couple years ago that that the ministry wouldn’t bother to send them any warnings as long as there was a witch or wizard over the age of seventeen in the house.

         When James finally took notice of the decoration in Sirius’ room he had to stop himself from laughing of relief. It was like being back in Gryffindor’s boys dormitory. Wherever he looked, the colours of his house beamed back at him. Gryffindor banners, pictures and posters were plastered all over the wall, making it impossible to see the wallpaper. A tall window at the far end of the room clad with velvet curtains let in a golden light that reflected on the shiny posters.

        He heard a sigh and the squeaking of a bed spring. James looked at the large bed where Sirius had dropped himself. It had a carved headboard, not unlike the one in his room. Sirius looked up blankly at the candle chandelier for a moment and his eyes then fell to the trunk standing next to his nightstand. He mumbled under his breath.

         “Sorry?” James said.

         “My parents. They’ve been rummaging through my stuff,” he said nodding at his open trunk.

         James walked over to it. Crinkled robes were messily lying at the bottom of the trunk among overturned school books. All of it was stained with the smelly contents of a spilled phial.

         “What were they looking for?”

         “Search me,” he said looking down at the trunk again. “I had packed everything neatly a couple days after break just in case I decided to bolt.”

         His face darkened.

         “Didn’t go as I planned though.”

         James' brow knitted in a frown.

         “Well, I guess we’ll just have to clean it up ourselves”

         He took out his own wand and pointed it at the trunk.

         “ _Tergeo_.”

         The liquid disappeared along with its stink, leaving the trunk shinier than ever. James glanced back at Sirius who was looking down at the floor. He walked towards him and pulled him to his feet.

         “Well, let’s get on with it now,” he said encouragingly. “Let’s not wait for the grass to grow under our arse, like you said.”

         Sirius chuckled. James’ attempt at sounding joyful had seemed to revive him at least temporarily. He levitated the trunk towards his bed and dropped it on it. It protested. He glanced worriedly towards the door. After a few moments, he went back to his task.

         While Sirius was busy looking under his bed for any lost belongings, James took the opportunity to wander around his room, looking at the pictures on the wall. He had enough photos of muggle motorcycles to cover the entirety of Gryffindor’s common room. James stopped short in front of a photo of a muggle girl wearing nothing but a red bikini. He laughed.

         “What?” said Sirius appearing from under his bed.

         James pointed at the poster.

         “Oh.” He shrugged. “I put it there to annoy my parents. Used a Permanent Sticking Charm on it.”

         And with that he stood up and placed a few books which he had rescued from under his bed into his trunk having payed no attention to the girl in the swim suit.

         James continued walking along the room until his eyes fell on a picture that was very familiar to him. There were four boys on the photo: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and himself. They looked about thirteen years old, judging by the fact that they hadn't gone through their growth spurt yet. He couldn't exactly remember when the picture had been taken, but he knew it had been after one of their famous pranks. The four of them were howling with laughter and high fiving each other. Smiling, James fingered a loose corner of the picture.

         He heard the snap of the trunk's drawbolts and turned around.

         “I think that's it,” Sirius said rubbing his hands together.

         James walked over to him.

         “Shall we use a -”

         “Shrinking charm?” he said looking up. James nodded. “Yeah, that's what I was thinking, too.”

         He pointed his wand at the trunk.

         “ _Reducio_.”

         He reached for the now book-sized trunk when there was a small knock at the door.

         They froze.

         Sirius put his index finger to his lips and tiptoed slowly to the door, expertly avoiding the creaking floorboards. James didn't dare to move a muscle. Sirius placed his ear to the door. James held his breath.

         Silence.

         Maybe they had just imagined it.

         “Sirius, I know you're in there,” came a boy's quiet voice from the other side. “Let me in, please. I won't tell mother.

         Sirius rolled his eyes.

         “My brother,” he mouthed.

         James relaxed a bit, but he couldn't help feeling for his wand in his jacket's pocket.

         Sirius pointed his wand to the doorknob.

         “ _Alohomora_.”

        The door opened. A boy around the age of fifteen appeared behind it. Sirius grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him into the room, closing the door behind him. He stood between it and his brother.

         Even though James had seen Regulus numerous times, it was always a surprise to him when it happened. It was like seeing a slightly modified reflection of Sirius. He had the same dark brown hair and elegant features as his brother, only they seemed to have been drawn on him with a slightly clumsier hand. He was shorter too, but he held himself in the same way Sirius did.

         His eyes flashed to James and he stared at him for a moment. James held his glare and crossed his arms.

         “What are you doing here?” Sirius growled.

         Regulus raised his eyebrows.

         “Could ask you the same thing.”

         “Don't get cheeky with me Reg', we're two against one.”

         Regulus eyed James.

         “Fine. Kreacher, come here please.”

         Crack.

         The house-elf appeared next to his master.

         “I knew it had to be you,” Sirius barked taking a step towards Kreacher. The elf hid behind Regulus, a triumphant smile on his face. “You disob -”

         “No, he didn't!” said Regulus defensively. “He didn't tell me you were here. He only told me about your friend. You said nothing about him, didn't you?”

         He nodded towards the bed where James was standing. James pushed his shoulders back and wrapped his fingers around his wand. His nose flaring, Sirius glared both at his brother and the house-elf.

         “Thank you, Kreacher,” said Regulus sweetly. “You may be dismissed. No need to tell anyone about my brother's presence... yet.”

         The elf bowed to his master and disappeared.

         Crack.

         “So, what did you come here for, Sirius? Seen the error in your ways?”

         “None of your bloody business.”

         He pushed past Regulus, walked to the bed and grabbed the now book-sized trunk.

         “ _Accio_ bag. _Accio_ cloak.”

         James kept his eyes on Regulus, while the items flew to Sirius' hands. He noticed how the former slowly placed himself in a way that blocked the path to the door.

         “Leaving so soon?”

         “Yes. It was nice seeing you. Please do pass my best wishes to mother and father for me. Ta.”

         Sirius smiled sarcastically and Regulus' cocky mask fell for a second.

         Sirius stuffed the trunk into the bag. He felt in it for a second and froze. He furrowed his brow at James who quickly shook his head in response. Still frowning, Sirius slowly took his hand out of the bag. He flung it across his chest and tossed the cloak to James who caught it swiftly. They marched towards the door, James treading slightly behind Sirius. Regulus planted himself right in front of them, trying to make himself look as big he could.

         Sirius scoffed.

         “Excellent. I do need a good laugh.”

         Regulus didn't budge.

         “We're two against one, remember?” Sirius said.

         His brother protectively placed his hand on the doorknob.

         “Fine,” Sirius said seizing him by the arm. “James, you grab the other one.”

         “Don't touch me,” Regulus spat edging away from James' hands. “It's your fault my brother's a disgrace.”

         James didn't have time to react before Regulus was slammed against the wall. It quivered.

         “I told you to get out of my way,” Sirius said through gritted teeth.

         He breathed heavily for a moment and slowly let go of his trembling brother. He looked at James who was rooted to the spot. His face softened slightly.

         “Let's go.”

         He reached for the doorknob.

         “I – I'll call mother,” Regulus said still shaken from the shock.

         Sirius didn't flinch.

         “Go ahead then.”

         Regulus opened his mouth, but only a choked sound came out. Sirius sneered.

         “That's what I thought.”

         He turned the doorknob.

         “You can't leave!” Regulus said his fists shaking. “This is your house!”

         Sirius let go of the doorknob. He stared at him bug-eyed.

         “No it isn't.”

         “This is your home and you've left it! You've abandoned mother! You've abandoned us!” he said his face flushed with anger. His eyes glistened with tears. “All mother and father ever did was try to raise you decently and this is how you repay them!”

         Sirius looked like he had been slapped in the face. James took his wand out.

         “Wow,” Sirius said shaking his head. “Mother's skills have really sharpened. I didn't think she would brainwash you into hating me so fast.”

         “Well, you given us every reason to despise you, being the way you are!” Regulus said glaring at him. “At least one of their sons turned out right.”

         He smiled spitefully.

         “I'm joining the Death Eaters, you know. Once I get out of Hogwarts. I told mother and father. They were thrilled.”

         James' eyes were locked on him. His fingers whitened around his wand.

         Regulus' face softened.

         “You know you could have been a proper son. They could have loved you properly if you didn't make it so difficult.”

         He paused.

         “Just tell them you've finally come to your senses. They'll forgive you. J – Just come back,” he begged. “Please.”

“I wouldn’t come back if it were a choice between this place and Azkaban,” Sirius spat.

Regulus' face hardened.

         “Fine,” he said sharply. “Mother! Kreacher! Sirius is -”

         He didn't have time to finish his sentence. He crashed against the wall and slid to the ground, knocked out cold.

         James stared wide-eyed at Regulus' unconscious body, while Sirius shook the hand with which he had just punched him, swearing unintelligibly.

         Crack.

         Kreacher appeared. His mouth fell open at the sight of his master's body in front of him. He ran to him.

         “W – What have you done!” he said tears swelling in his eyes. “What have you done!”

         “Simmer down, Kreacher. He's just having a quick kip. Come on,” he said to James nodding at the door.

         James reacted after a moment and started fumbling with the cloak.

         “Too late for that,” said Sirius. “They know we're here. It'll only slow us down.”

         James took one final look at Regulus and followed Sirius into the hallway.

         “You won't escape from this one! Traitor!” Kreacher shrieked behind them.

         Crack!

         Sirius grabbed James by the elbow.

         "Come on!"

         They ran down the stairs, their feet hammering on the wooden steps.

         Crash!

         The sound of glass shattering on the first floor could be heard from where they were. A woman started screaming like a banshee.

         "Mother," Sirius mumbled to himself.

         They ran down another staircase. On the second floor, they heard hurried footsteps coming from the other direction. Sirius took out his wand ready to strike. James eyed it and pulled him onto the landing. He pushed him into the first open room he found, closing the door afterwards. He fumbled with the cloak and pulled it over them. They heard the footsteps running past the door.

         "Got you wand?" Sirius asked. “Better get out fast, before they come back down.”

         James nodded. He watched as Sirius placed his ear against the door. After a few moments, he cracked it open and peeked out.

         The coast was clear. They treaded carefully into the corridor and started climbing down the stairs. On the fourth step, the shrieking started again. They heard footsteps trampling down one floor above them, doubling their speed. James and Sirius ran down at full-bore taking sharp turns around the handrail. The edges of the cloak flew up, but they didn't bother to cover their feet anymore. On the first floor, James was headed towards the next staircase, when Sirius took an unexpected turn. He stopped short before the wall that stood in front of the stairs leading upwards. The cloak slid off them. James caught it.

         “Sirius!” said James pulling on his arms. “Let's go!”

         He shook him off.

         “ _Flagrate_.”

         James watched as Sirius scribbled with his wand. Red fiery letters appeared burning in mid air.

         He was leaving a message.

         “Come on,” said James insisting. “We haven't got any time!”

         Sirius ignored him, concentrated on finishing his task. James resolved himself to stand his face to the stairs, guarding Sirius' back. The footsteps grew louder. He bit his lip.

         “Hurry up!”

         They were right over them now. Their feet pounded on them. He could even hear the malevolent glee in their voices.

         “Make haste, Kreacher!” said the woman. “We've almost got them!”

         “Yes, Mistress!”

         James tightened his grip around his want. They were closing up on them.

         “I can hear them, Kreacher!” she cried out with joy.

         James rose his wand. He saw her feet before hearing her triumphant cry.

         “They’re here!”

         He didn't skip a beat. Expecting resistance, he jerked Sirius by the arm and took one last look behind him before fleeing down the stairs.

 

_SCUM OF THE EARTH:_

_MUDBLOODS AND BLOODTRAITORS WELCOME_

 

         The red letters burned and hung before his eyes even after looking away. He blinked repeatedly and the fiery writing faded. The sound of footsteps chasing them trailed off and was replaced by the indignant screech of Sirius’ mother. She hadn’t appreciated her son’s message.

         “Get my wand Kreacher!”

         Crack!

         The elf disapparated.

         Sirius and James rushed down two steps at the time.

         “Was that really necessary?” James asked rhetorically.

         Sirius shrugged.

         Crack!

         The pursuit resumed while they ran past the decapitated elf heads. A jet of blue light flashed between him and Sirius. They ducked and jumped over the last few steps, retreating into the entrance corridor. He could see the door at the end of it.

         “ _Incarcerous_!”

         James felt a thick rope growing around his wrist. It pulled on him. He tumbled to the floor.

         “You’ve caught one Mistress!”

         Sirius’ mother was at the bottom of the staircase.

         “ _Relashio_!” Sirius cried.

         The ropes released him. Sirius pulled him to his feet and sent a gush of purple light towards his mother. She reflected it quickly. Simultaneously, mother and son rose their wands ready to attack.

         “ _Protego_!” James cried out.

         The two opposite jets of lights bounced on the invisible wall and back to the attackers. James and Sirius plunged to the floor. The gush of light shot right over them, the heat of it brushing against their necks. Sirius’ mother hadn’t been so fast. Her spell had hit her right in the chest. She lay unconscious on the floor while a frantic Kreacher shrieked _“My mistress!”_ next to her.

         They rose and ran towards the door which now had a burnt smoking spot where the spell had hit it.

         They were halfway there.

         “Filth!” Kreacher shrieked. “You've harmed my mistress! My poor mistress!”

         They were almost at the door. Just six more steps.

         A gas lamp shattered next to his head.

         Five.

         Four.

         “Come back here, traitor!”

         The elf blasted two other lamps. Broken shards scratched James' face.

         Three.

         The chandelier crashed behind them, nearly missing them.

         Two.

         One.

         Sirius’ hand was inches from the door.

         It opened.

         A tall dark-haired man clad with green velvet robes appeared on the threshold. James heard Sirius draw in a sharp breath and take a step back. The man furrowed his brow at James. His eyes landed on Sirius and they widened in comprehension. He dived towards him and seized him by the collar.

         “You!” he said barely able to speak through his gritted teeth.

         He slammed Sirius against the wall.

         “How dare you come back here and befoul my house, you worthless, good for nothing brat!” he said spit flying out of his mouth.

         “Master! Master!” cried the house elf from the bottom of the stairs. “Mistress has been injured!”

         The man's sharp face snapped to where his wife laid. His shoulders started shaking. James couldn't see his face, but he knew it meant no good.

         “Traitor! You’ve done this to your mother, you scum!” he said his fists whitening.

         His head turned towards Kreacher.

         “Carry your mistress to the master bedroom, Kreacher,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “Make sure she receives the attention she requires.”

         “Y – yes, Master,” Kreacher said in a tearful voice.

         Crack!

         The man's face snapped back to his son.

         “You revolting bloodtraitor,” he spat. “You're nothing but a stain of dishonor to the family!”

         Sirius was livid, his body petrified to the spot apart from his head which kept bobbing from his father’s manic shaking.

         James watched the scene as a helpless child would. Kreacher’s cries which could be heard from the first floor and Mr. Black’s raucous voice fogged his head, making him unable to think. The walls seemed to be shaking. He tried to take a deep breath, but it got stuck in his throat.

         He heard something clatter to the floor and looked down. Sirius’ wand had rolled right to his feet.

         Sirius.

         The thought of him dissipated his daze like a blaze of light.

         He picked it up and slowly pointed it at Mr. Black’s back.

         “Let him go.”

         Mr. Black continued unleashing his fury on his son. James pushed his shoulders back.

         “Let him go!”

         Mr. Black stopped. He slowly faced him while his hands remained tight around his son’s collar. He met his gaze. James felt as though the man’s cold grey eyes would burn holes right through his flesh. His hand started shaking slightly.

         “L – let him go, sir,” he said trying to steady his voice.

         The man scoffed and James’ hopes crumbled. He hadn’t taken him seriously.

         Mr. Black let go of his son who slid down against the wall. He advanced on James slowly as if he had all the time in the world. James took a step back.

         “So, you're the reason...” he said tapping his fingers against his sharp cheek. “You're the reason my son has become a disgraceful blood traitor.”

         James tried maintaining the man's relentless glare. He took another step back.

         “You've crippled my son with your foul ideals wreaking havoc in my family. Now you come into my house, you injure my wife and you dare threaten me.” he said menacingly. “Not too sharp, boy.”

         The man kept advancing on him. He kept on retreating. He would have his back against the door in a matter of seconds.

         If only he were able to get Sirius' wand back to him he'd be able to cause a diversion.

         As though he had read his mind, James caught a glimpse of Sirius getting up gingerly. James' eyes quickly darted back to his father.

         “I'm going to give you ten seconds to let yourself out, boy,” he said looking at him through squinted eyes. “I'd beg of you not to make me use brute force to do so.”

         He smiled viciously as if that were exactly what he wanted.

         James and Sirius locked eyes. The latter nodded.

         “Now!”

         In a heartbeat, James threw the wand over Mr. Black to Sirius who caught it dexterously. He pointed it to his father. However, the latter was quick to act. He whipped out his own, waving away the spell his son had blasted. Lamps blasted along the wall throwing sparks in the air.

         James' stared numbly at the scene before realising what was happening.

         “James, duck!” he heard Sirius shouting.

         It was too late.

         Mr. Black's spell hit him in the chest, slamming him against the front door. His head banged painfully against the hard wood. He saw stars in front of his eyes. He squeezed his forehead and shut his eyes tight digging deep wrinkles around them while a sharp pain ran through his entire body. His stomach lurched as he felt like he was loosing his balance at the edge of a vertiginous cliff. He heard rapid gushes of light swooshing through the air.

         Glass smashing.

         Cruel words being yelled.

         “James!”

         Sirius' voice.

         James forced himself to open his eyes. He immediately regretted it. The world swayed in front of him and his eyes couldn't focus on any specific point. His insides squirmed. All he saw were blurred bright colours dangerously merging into one another. He shut his eyes again.

         Ten seconds.

         That's all he needed.

         Ten seconds to recover. Then he'd be fit to get up and help Sirius.

         He opened his eyes again. He was able to focus, although everything seemed hazy at the edges.

         He could see Sirius fighting against his father. Mr. Black was cornering him, gaining ground. His curses kept making Sirius back away towards the staircase. With each spell he threw to his father, the latter retaliated with three new ones. Sirius was a brilliant wizard, but he was no match for an adult with so many years of training behind him. He was unable to do anything apart defending himself now. His father's attacks were too strong.

         James pushed himself off the floor with his hands and tried standing up on his wobbly legs. He crashed to his knees, sending searing pain through them. He stood on all fours, breathing heavily. All the air seemed to have vanished from his lungs. He looked up and the walls started spinning around him. He tried as hard as possible to keep his breakfast down.

         He couldn't recall ever being hit by such a horrible curse.

         He wanted to get up to help Sirius, but he couldn't. His limbs were too heavy for him to move. He lifted his head and scowled at the pain pressing on his temples.

         Sirius would never be able to win the fight against his father. They needed to escape.

         He heard the messenger bag slap against Sirius back and an idea battled its way through his foggy mind.

         “S – Sirius,” he barely managed to say with a tremulous breathy voice. He cleared his throat forcefully. “Sirius. The pouch!”

         “What?” he said keeping his eyes on his opponent.

         “The pouch. The powder,” he said before starting to cough.

         Sirius' eyes widened in comprehension.

         “ _Impedimenta!_ ”

         As if luck had suddenly tilted in their favour, Sirius' spell hit his father throwing him backwards against the wall. He tried pointing his wand to his son, but his mobility had slowed, making him unable to do anything. Sirius jumped on the opportunity to plunge his hand in the bag and grab the pouch which held the precious powder they had been given. He took a handful of it. James watched Sirius let the grain slide from his hand, the particles trickling slowly to the ground.

         There was a loud blast and the world blacked out.

 

 

∞

 

 

         James opened his eyes and blinked repeatedly. The first thing he noticed was a rank taste in his mouth. He cringed and Sirius' blurry head appeared floating above him. He squinted to try and clear his vision and realised he wasn't wearing his glasses. A second later, they appeared above his face dangling from Sirius' hand. He put them on.

         He suddenly noticed that he was lying on a four poster metal bed, the white linen pulled up to his chest. He propped himself on his elbows.

         “Where are we?” he said rubbing his eyes.

         James watched a few groups of people standing behind Sirius. He caught them casting the pair of them furtive glances while whispering to one another. They kept a safe distance from the boys. Sirius turned around following James' gaze and the group of people quickly turned their backs to them pretending they hadn't been murmuring about them.

         “In the Knight Bus,” Sirius said looking back at James.

         As if it had reacted to hearing his name, the bus took a violent turn to the left. The bed jumped with it and part of the mattress slid off the floor. James rolled off it. Sirius shot sidewards, managing to get a hold of the metal footboard with his hand at the last moment.

         “And I've managed to keep you from falling all this time you were out cold,” Sirius said half amused while he helped James get up.

         “What happened?” he said sitting on the edge of the bed.

         Sirius' face darkened.

         “The powder was jinxed. It exploded when it hit the floor.” he said absentmindedly stroking his left hand with his thumb. James noticed that his skin had become red and that blisters were forming on it. His cheek was also bruised and he had a few scratches on his face. He wasn't showing any signs of pain. “All went dark so at least it did part of its job.”

         “What happened to the house?”

         A wrinkle appeared between Sirius' eyebrows. James could tell that Sirius had seen through his question. He wasn't asking about the house.

         “Don't know. I managed to get us out of there as quick as possible after the blast and called the Knight Bus. It's emptied significantly as you can see,” he said nodding towards the empty spaces. “You've been out of it ever since. Except half an hour ago you woke up to be sick.”

         That explained the taste in his mouth.

         James nodded silently. He didn't really know what to say after what he had seen. A couple weeks ago he had not for one second doubted Sirius when he had told him how he had run away, but James had never been able to wrap his head around it. He had never seen such violence. Let alone endured it.

         Fortunately for him, Sirius didn't seem to want to talk about it.

         “Remember in my room?” he said sitting next to him and picking up the messenger bag from the floor. “When we were about to leave?”

         James nodded and watched Sirius lift the slap of the bag. He searched in it. James knew what he was looking for.

         “Don't take it out now,” he whispered to him putting his hand on Sirius' arm. “The other passengers already think we’re dodgy. And I don't blame them either. Coming onto a bus with an unconscious person and visible injuries doesn't scream _'You can trust me!'_ ”

         “But why have you got a Hand of Glory in there?” he whispered a bit too loudly. “That's a _dark_ artefact! My mother has one of those!”

         “ _Shhh_!” James said realising they looked even more suspicious now. The whispers around them doubled. “It's my mum's.” Sirius' eyebrows' rose. “She sort of had a rebellious phase when she was young and started collecting a few dark relics. But they're all harmless.” James added quickly. “And that thing's fake. She was too disgusted by the idea of having a real thief's shriveled hand, so it's very flukey. The magic wears off if you use it too often.”

         Sirius put the bag back down.

         “At least it worked to get us out of there.”

         After those words they remained silent for the rest of the trip.

 

 

∞

 

 

         The bus stopped in front of the house's iron gates. They got down and it disappeared as fast as it had arrived, leaving a cloud of dust behind it.

         “We should make ourselves a bit presentable before going in,” James said motioning to his face. “My parents aren't supposed to come home for a few hours, but the house-elves will be there.”

         Sirius nodded.

         They each took care of the other one's respective scratches and bruises with a healing spell. When they were done, Sirius looked at his burnt hand and winced.

         “I haven't got a spell for that,” James said a frown on his face. “But my mum has some burn-healing paste. I could nick some for you.”

         They walked towards the door and James took out his wand.

         “ _Alohomora_.”

         The door opened and James' mouth fell open. His dad was standing in the doorway. He felt himself being pulled in by him and having Mr. Potter's arms wrapped around him.

         “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

        James barely had the time to answer. Mr. Potter let go of him and lifted his hand to Sirius' chin. The latter tensed immediately at his touch. He let the man lightly take his chin and turn his face sideways. He was looking for injuries. He frowned at the still reddish marks on his face. Sirius relaxed slightly.

         “Come in,” said Mr. Potter to the both of them with a grave voice.

         They walked into the foyer and Mr. Potter closed the door. He turned around, facing the two of them.

         “Where were you?” he said very straightforwardly.

         James and Sirius exchanged glances.

         “Er – we were just out for a walk,” James said rubbing the back of his neck.

         Mr. Potter raised his eyebrows.

         “Out for a walk?”

         James looked down. Sirius shifted his weight. Mr. Potter crossed his arms.

         “I've got all evening,” he said.

         James sighed.

         “We went to London to get some of my stuff back,” Sirius answered quickly before James could say anything.

         Mr. Potter opened his mouth.

         “You can't blame him, Dad! Have you seen the state of his room? There's nothing in it!”

         “How did you get those cuts and bruises?”

         “Er -” he said running a hand through his hair.

         “I'm not daft, James. I know the result of a healing spell when I see it. So does your mum,” he added looking at him through his brow.

         “We got in a bit of a fight,” he said toeing the floor.

         “With whom may I ask?”

         James glanced at Sirius who was biting his lip and looking down. He looked back at Mr. Potter and shook his head discreetly. His father sighed.

         “I'll talk to your mum,” he said.

         There was a moment of silence where James noticed how tired his dad looked. He seemed a bit off colour and the bags under his eyes had deepened. His parents were working too hard.

         “Well, I'll think we'll go to the garden,” he said grabbing Sirius' elbow.

         “Not so fast, James. I'll go fetch her while you two go upstairs and wait for us there.”

         “But -”

         "You heard me."

         James walked to the door at the back of the room, slumping defeatedly. Sirius followed. They walked out of the room into the corridor that lead to the stairs. While passing next to the living room door, James heard two men's voices that he didn't recognise. He stopped in front of it. His dad hadn't told him they had company. One word from their conversation caught his attention and he strained his ear, placing it on the door. Sirius did the same.

         "… do know… werewolfs!"

         The person who said this had a raspy voice that reminded him of an old man.

         "… eccentric antics… Ministry… anti-werewolf laws… news breaks out."

         They heard the sound of wood hitting against the floor at regular intervals. It seemed like the second man had a cane. James squinted his brow in concentration. He could only catch a few separate words between what sounded like unintelligible mumbling to him. He looked at Sirius who mirrored his expression.

         "… good comes out of it."

         "… create a wider pit … the Order…"

         "… help … least expected…"

         "What do you think you two are doing?" came Mrs. Potter furious voice from behind them.

         They jumped.

         The two men in the living room went silent, their voices only to be replaced by the clumping sound coming towards the door. It swung open and a man appeared behind it. The first thing James noticed was that what he had thought to be a cane was actually a wooden leg which belonged to none other than Alastor Moody.

         "Eavesdropping are we?" he growled glaring at the pair of them with his small dark eyes.

         "What's the matter with you two? Leaving the house alone! Leaving no note! In these times!" Mrs. Potter said her face alight with anger. "Nothing! You could have been killed!"

         She shook her head.

         "We were worried sick! And you come here as calm as a millpond expecting us to ask no questions!"

         Mr. Potter appeared at the end of the corridor and walked to his wife.

         "'Mia,” he said stopping next to her. “I was about to tell you the reason of their little escapade if you had let me finish..."

         Mr. Potter's calm and appeasing voice contrasted violently with his wife's.

         "Well, start talking," she said crossing her arms and looking pointedly at the two boys.

         James recounted their little adventure from the beginning, expertly avoiding any details of the jinxed powder and of who they had fought with. He gave her a knowing look, just like he had with his father. She seemed to understand. The more James talked the more her anger seemed to disinflate like a balloon, leaving her face empty of any emotion but concern. At the end of his story, she pulled both of them into a tight hug, one after the other. Sirius was surprised by her sudden burst of affection, but didn't complain about it. On the contrary, a warm smile seemed to be pulling at the corners of his mouth afterwards, while he looked at Mrs. Potter with bright eyes. She smiled in return and lightly touched his cheek.

         "Now don't go frightening us again like that." she said looking at him through her brow.

         Sirius nodded. She turned towards the living room door, holding Sirius' hands between hers, which made him gasp in pain. Mrs. Potter gaped down at Sirius' blistered hand which he tried to hide, but she held a hard grip on his wrist.

         “Why didn't you tell us first thing you were injured! We've got some burn-healing paste for that! James, you know where it is, please go fetch it for him.”

         “I can go with him,” Sirius piped in shyly.

         Mrs. Potter smiled at him.

         “Okay, then you go and do that. Come down for dinner in five minutes.” She turned to look at Moody. “Will you be staying with us for dinner, Alastor?"

         "Nah, I'd best be going," he said limping out into the corridor.

         Mrs. Potter shook her head.

         "The day I convince you to eat with us will be the day merpeople can fly!"

         Moody chuckled.

         "Hope moves mountains!" he said walking down the corridor.

         Mr. Potter smiled.

         "I'll walk you to the door."

         They watched the pair of them turn right at the end of the hallway.

         "Y - you know what he's like, Euphemia. Stubborn as an ash tree! You'll never get him to eat anything he hasn't personally picked, cleaned out, cooked and served himself. I'll bet my mustache on it!"

         James had forgotten about the other man's presence who had just walked out of the living room and stood next to his mum. He now identified him as Edgar Bones, an old friend of his parents, recognisable by his shaggy mane of hair that fell to his shoulders and his long equally frizzy mustache that trembled like a cat’s whiskers whenever he spoke.

         “Will you be eating with us, Ed?” said Mrs. Potter.

         “Gladly! You do know t - the way to my heart is through my st - stomach,” he said teasingly tapping his abdomen.

         He had the staggering, gruff voice of an elderly man, although he didn't appear older than fifty.

         “Well, you go and get yourself ready, while I go fetch Fleamont.”

She hesitated for a moment, a crease appearing between her brows.

“Has anyone else noticed how peaky he looks? I told him to get some rest earlier, but he just dismissed it.”

         James didn't have the time to comment on it.

         “You know how it is, Euphemia!” said Ed quickly, linking his arm with Mrs. Potter's. “This war has got us all working like house-elves. Just make sure he gets enough sleep tonight. It's not everyday that we get a day off!”

         Mrs. Potter's frown didn't soften, although she dropped the subject.

         “How come you're home so soon?” said James, his curiosity piqued as to what was the reason they had been caught.

         “We were sent off earlier,” his mum said curtly.

         “Is it something to do with the order?”

         Mrs. Potter waved him off, pushing both of them in the direction of the staircase.

         “Oh, hush hush now! Go get yourselves ready for dinner. And get the paste!”

         They climbed up the stairs, leaving Ed and Mrs. Potter in the corridor.

         “What's the order?” Sirius said once they were out of earshot.

         “Er, it's sort of a secret society.”

         “What’s it for?”

         James hesitated for a moment.

“As far as I know, it's purpose is to fight against You-Know-Who and his followers. Dumbledore's the leader, you see. But the minister wants to keep it hushed up, since he doesn't always see eye to eye with him.”

         “How come you’ve never told me about it?” said Sirius clearly offended.

         “Mum and Dad didn't want me blabbering about it! And I only found out about it this summer! It’s sort of slipped my mind with what’s been going on...”

         James knew it was a poor excuse. The truth was that he was still very careful with what he said to him in case he ever reacted unexpectedly.

         Sirius eyed him suspiciously but let it slip.

         “Fine, fine. Who’s in it?”

         “Er, my parents, Ed, - the man we just saw - Moody and Dumbledore of course, er … there must be loads of people if they’re fighting against You-Know-Who, but I don’t know most of them.”

         Sirius nodded taking everything in.

“Can anybody join?”

         James chuckled.

         “I’ve already asked them and the answer is no. They don’t want anyone who isn’t out of Hogwarts to join.”

         “That’s bollocks!” he said lifting his arms indignantly.

         “Well, it’s their loss…”

         Sirius smirked.

         “Absolutely.”


	4. Meeting Marlene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previous chapter: Shit goes down in the Black household.
> 
> This chapter: Diplomacy has never been Marlene's forte.

_James POV_

* * *

 “I can't believe I forgot my broom,” Sirius said walking into the Potter's dining room alongside James.

He spun the screaming yo-yo he had been playing with which shrieked in response.

“I had to pack this stupid thing, but my broom? God forbid I remember that.”

He sat defeatedly at the table where Mrs. Potter and a still flannel pyjama-clad Mr. Potter had fallen silent.

“Give yourself a break, mate. We've got a shed-ful of them,” said James pulling up a chair across from his mum.

“Good morning, boys.”

“Morning,” Sirius said slumping in his chair.

“What’s got your wand in a twist?” said Mrs. Potter.

“Sirius is currently broomless.”

“That’s easily solved!” she said getting up. “Just order a new one!”

Sirius smiled unconvincingly.

“Going back to work, I guess?” James said looking up at her.

“Yes. Back to the old routine. I'm afraid last night was just an exception. I'll see you tonight if I don't come home too late.” She looked at Mr. Potter. “Will you be coming to the _Ministry_ today?”

“Right after I finish my breakfast and get dressed.”

She pecked her husband goodbye, then walked towards her son and pressed a kiss on the top of his head. Before heading towards the door she ruffled Sirius' hair to which he replied with a small smile.

Mr. Potter let his fork fall on his plate.

“Well, I guess I should be getting ready,” he said pushing himself up with his thin arms. “Got any plans for today?”

James shrugged to which Mr. Potter raised his eyebrows.

“See you when I come back down then, if you haven’t run off anywhere already.”

James smiled wanly in response and his dad left. He picked up the newest _Prophet_ that lay on the table, his eyes landing immediately on the front page article.

 

 

_**SUSPICIOUS INCREASE IN WEREWOLF ACTIVITY TROUBLES MINISTRY** _

 

“ _This is unheard of! Inhumane!” said an anonymous worker of the Ministry after learning of the mass werewolf attack that was reported to have happened last night in the outskirts of the forest of Staffordshire. There are at the moment two dozen known victims, all of which are Muggles, information which we have gotten from the head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. Unfortunately, none have survived their injuries._

“ _I knew those beasts were malicious in their werewolf form, but two days after the full moon! T – that's just barbaric! Monstrous!” said another anonymous tip._

_If you are an amateur of the course of the celestial body, you will know that the full moon actually took place two days before the assault, which means that the attackers hadn't transformed into their lupine form. Such a thing has never been heard of before._

_The Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes are currently full steam ahead into their research to discover what might have caused an attack of this magnitude two days after the full moon._

_In the meantime, we advise you to take all the necessary precautions to keep you and your family safe. These include:_

 

  1. _Securing your house with protective spells._

  2. _Marking down the dates of full moons in a calendar._

  3. _Locking yourself at home at any given time during the full moon._

  4. _Deciding on a daily curfew for you and your family._

  5. _Reporting immediately to the authorities if anyone you know is showing any suspicious or lupine-like behaviour, be it an acquaintance, a neighbour, a family member or friend._




 

_We would also like to remind you not to take this threat lightly. These are cruel and vicious beasts, foreign to any innate human emotions like mercy, compassion, sacrifice or love. Do not trust these creatures. They are prone to strike on defenseless people without a moment's hesitation or a thought of remorse._

 

By the time he had finished reading, James' brows had bumped together in a frown.

“What the bloody hell is this?” said Sirius who had been reading over his shoulder.

Mrs. Potter appeared in the doorway.

“Oh, boys, I've forgotten -”

“Mum, what's with all this anti-werewolf propaganda?” he said showing her the paper. “What does Dumbledore think of it?”

“Dumbledore's not pleased I can tell you that,” she said fidgeting with her keys.

“What's the order doing about it?” he said accusingly.

“Now, that's classified information.”

“But -”

“See you tonight!” she said before quickly disappearing.

James grumbled. He turned to Sirius who was curling his lips at the sight of the _Prophet_ and keeping a distance from it as if it were filthy.

“Do you think Remus has seen this?” Sirius said nodding with contempt towards the offending object.

James sighed.

“S'pose so,” he said running his fingers through his hair. “We should probably write to him.”

Sirius looked away scratching his ear.

“He won’t want to hear from me.”

James rolled his eyes.

“Come on, mate. He’s still your friend even if he’s angry at you.”

“I doubt it. I’m probably the last person he wants to hear from. You write to him.”

“He just needs some time. But fine.”

Sirius swatted the Prophet with the back of his hand while James summoned a quill, ink and parchment. He unrolled it and started writing.

 

_Dear Remus,_

_We saw the article in the Prophet today. It's terrible. We hope you're alright. Please write to us if anything happens._

_Love, James_

_PS: Sirius is staying with me this summer._

 

James blew on the ink. It was short, but Remus would appreciate it. He rolled it up and tied it with a piece of string. Together, they walked up to the attic where a stone door lead to a turret into which owls could fly in through paneless windows that let in a pleasant breeze. James looked up along the circled wall where bronze perches were encrusted in the polished rocks. Five owls were resting on distinct ones, three of which James didn’t recognise. He smiled at the sight of Edbert, a barn owl with a distinctive yellowish-beige plumage. James whistled a three note tune which he had grown accustomed to sing whenever he wanted to catch the owl’s attention. Edbert instantly opened his big black eyes and shook its feathers, expertly avoiding to look down at his master. James teased him again by whistling his little ditty. After much consideration and two more whistles from his master, Edbert opened his beak which made an odd smile appear on his face and let out a cheerful shrill cry. He flew down to James’ shoulder and nipped at his ear affectionately. After being fed a treat, the owl lifted its claw, letting him attach the letter to it.

“Please take it to Remus.”

Edbert gave a human-like nod and took flight, passing through the window on which Sirius was leaning, and ruffling his hair in the process.

“Oi!” said Sirius patting down his hair. “He did that on purpose!”

Edbert gave a teasing hoot that James could have sworn sounded like a laugh. He smiled.

“Who lives up there?” Sirius asked one hand pointed north at a house on a hill, the other still in his hair.

“That’s Marlene’s house.”

“Really? You’ve never mentioned she lived that close.”

“Sure I have. I’ve been up there loads of times, especially when I was a kid. Want to drop by?”

Sirius snorted.

“That will take our minds off things.”

 

∞

 

James and Sirius climbed up the poppy-spotted hill with long-legged strides. They agilely jumped over a white wooden fence and came face to face with the ivy-covered back of the McKinnon’s house. In front of it stood Marlene, hovering a few inches over a flower bed.

“What in the bloody hell are you doing?” said James.

Marlene, who had their back to them, turned around unfazed. She lowered her sunglasses to the tip of her nose.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

James scratched his jaw.

“Well, from this angle it seems like you’ve cut part of the ivy on the wall of your house to paint an obscene picture on it, while wearing enormous sunglasses, even though it’s possibly one of the cloudiest days of the summer, sucking on an enormous _Fizzing Whizbee_ and listening offendingly loud to Celestina Warbeck.”

At that precise moment, Celestina’s ear splitting voice pierced through the air while she hit a high note, making everyone except Marlene wince. James saw a couple of birds flee from a nearby tree.

Sirius put up his index finger.

“Not to mention the fact that you’re floating over the ground for no apparent reason.”

Marlene tilted her head making her dark wiry curls fall onto her face and examined the freshly painted deep red marks on the beige brick. She shrugged.

“I guess that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“Wait up,” Sirius said jogging towards her and grabbing another brush from the bucket paint. “I’ll help you.”

He started swishing his brush to the jazzy rhythm of the music.

“I don’t mean to offend anyone here,” said James running a hand through his hair. “But what exactly is the purpose of vandalising your own house?”

Marlene took a bite out of the sweet in her hand.

“You know, I think I’ve finally figured out why artists are so often misunderstood and isolated people,” she said through a mouthful of sherbet as she bent down to paint a particularly long curve. “It is so easy for someone who isn’t pouring their heart and soul into a work of art to criticise its meaning.”

“You’ve got some strange sense of what art is.”

“Child, either you grab a brush and speak your mind through the effervescent outflow of your creativity or you shut up.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I intend to stay in your parents’ good books.”

“Why? Are you planning on asking them for my hand?”

“Bullseye!” James said at the exact moment Sirius dramatically jabbed the wall with his brush, splattering the yellow daffodils at his feet with crimson drops.

“Someone wants to be left at the altar…” Sirius chanted.

Marlene snorted.

“Tosser,” he said to Sirius who had become too absorbed in his own painting to hear him. James could hear him singing along to Celestina.

 

_Oh, come and stir my cauldron_

_And if you do it right_

_I'll boil you up some hot, strong love_

_To keep you warm tonight!_

 

He sat on the grass and watched him slap paint onto the wall with exaggerated ballroom-like moves, creating florid swirls with his brush. After a few moments, James picked up the thinnest one from the bucket, chose a bare spot between Sirius and Marlene and started painting. He managed to reduce Sirius’ singing to a low hum as he gently traced the petals of a flower, dotting its center with crimson flecks.

“It’s a lily!” Marlene said with delight into his ear.

James jumped and dropped his brush, splattering paint on his face. He hadn’t noticed that Marlene had crept behind him to observe his drawing over his shoulder.

“I didn’t do it intentionally! It’s not supposed to be her!” he said massaging his wounded ear.

“Who says I was talking about her?”

Sirius put his arm around James’ neck.

“How adorable!” he said rubbing his knuckles on his head, ruffling his hair in the process. “She always finds a way into his head!”

“Look, he’s blushing!”

“That’s paint you pricks!” he said wiping the spots off his face, which only enhanced the glow off his cheeks. “Geroff!”

James disentangled himself from Sirius’ grasp.

“Did’ya know she’s coming in a couple of weeks to spend the rest of the summer with me?” Marlene said with a knowing smile.

James heart gave a jolt.

“Really?” he said leaning his elbow on the wall and running a hand through his hair.

Sirius shook his head.

“Poor bloke. She’s not even here and she’s already got him flustered and dazed.”

“Who’s dazed? I’m not dazed.”

“You’ve got your arm on wet paint, you git.”

James unpeeled his sleeve from the wall, only to find an exact imprint on it of the lily he had painted.

“Now you can truly say you wear your heart on your sleeve!” Sirius said slapping his back.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ll have you know that ‘after having taken the time to cool off and think about the whole _Snape incident_ , she’s decided that the best way to deal with things is to avoid you. But if she ever does come face to face with you, she’ll treat you coolly, but cordially,’” Marlene said as if reciting something she had learned by heart.

“Every bloke’s dream. Hear-hear, Prongs!” Sirius said slapping his back again.

James shoved him.

“Well, it’s definitely more than what I expected. She as good as said that she would rather snog the Giant Squid than me. I thought she would vow never to speak to me again.”

“Look on the bright side! Even if she doesn’t speak to you, you don’t have to goggle her from afar anymore! You’ve got this precious, delicate version of her on your jumper!”

“I wouldn’t be mocking my drawing if I were you,” James said pointing at the wall.

The three of them took a step back and examined the damages. Marlene’s childish and sloppy marks complemented Sirius’ elegant but chaotic scribbles that had expanded along the wall far more than what was initially intended.

Sirius shrugged.

“I might have gotten a bit carried away,” he said unabashed.

“It’s a shame the effort and goodwill doesn’t compensate the talent,” said James patting his friend’s back.

Marlene tuted with a would-be sorry look on her face.

 

 

∞

 

 

The chair in the kitchen grunted as Marlene plopped herself on it and swung her feet on the table, the effects of the Fizzing Whizbee she had eaten having faded away. She dipped her hand in the cookie jar that rested on her lap and grabbed a handful of them, then slid the container to James. She bit into a cookie. Her dark eyes peered at the boys sitting in front of her over the brim of her sunglasses, unaware of the crumbs trickling down from the corner of her mouth.

“So what puny affair brings you to my kingdom?”

“Boredom, I guess,” said James sliding the jar to Sirius.

Marlene slammed her fist on the table.

“I will not be you king’s jester!” she said with fake indignation.

“Shame,” said Sirius. “You’d make a very accurate _bouffon_.”

Marlene glared at him.

“The real question is,” said James. “What brought _you_ to decide to paint the side of your house?”

“Boredom. I guess.”

They chewed on their cookies in silence.

“Marly, have you seen my paint bru - oh!”

A little girl around the age of ten had burst through the door only to stop in her tracks, doorknob still in hand, at the sight of the two older boys. James recognised her as Marlene’s younger sister, distinguishable by their shared voluminous wiry hair, pudgy cheeks and dark skin. However, her features were much softer and childish than her sister’s. Her round eyes fell on James which made her eyebrows rise ever so slightly. James could almost guess that she vaguely remembered him as the boy her sister used to play with when they were kids. He had never seen much of her, given that Marlene and him had drifted apart when the little girl was barely four years old. Nevertheless, he recalled Marlene complaining to him numerous times about all the attention her sister got from their parents.

Marlene sighed impatiently and took her sunglasses off.

“What do you want, Desiree?” she said dragging the syllables of her sister’s name.

The little girl looked down.

“I - I was wondering if you had seen my paint brushes,” she said as she toed the dust on the floor. “I left them earlier in my room, but I can’t find them anymore.”

Marlene snorted.

“So you come bothering me with it? It’s not my fault you don’t take care of your stuff.”

Desiree’s face fell.

“I - I -”

“I think I saw them in the back garden when we came in,” James piped in.

He gave her an encouraging smile. Desiree gave him a shy one in return before scuttling out of the room. While nibbling the tip of the temple of her sunglasses, Marlene raised her eyebrows at him with contempt. James mirrored her expression.

“Must be a treat having you as a sister,” he said intertwining his fingers.

Marlene scoffed.

“You should know. You’re an only child.”

“I _wish_ I was an only child,” Sirius said.

“Join the queue.”

They fell silent again.

Marlene drummed her fingers against the table, her sunglasses hanging from her mouth. James sighed. He ran a hand through his hair while Sirius looked up at the ceiling, balancing on the back legs of his chair. They stayed like this for a few moments.

“Merlin’s beard, what has gotten into you two this summer?” Marlene said suddenly. “Where’s the old spark? The usual bravado? You’re as dull as two well-fed bowtruckles.”

James and Sirius both opened their mouths at the accusation.

“Speaking of bravado,” she added before they could say anything. “Where’s the rest of your little gang? The Marauders.”

She clicked her tongue at the mention of their little name.

Sirius and James exchanged a dark look. The thought of how Remus might be reacting to the articlehad flown back into their minds. James looked down at his hands on the table. They wouldn’t have any news of him until at least tonight.

“On holidays with their families.”

“How come _you’re_ not on holiday with _your_ family?” she said pointing her sunglasses at Sirius.

“None of your business,” said Sirius harshly.

“Ouch, touchy subject,” she said mockingly cocking an eyebrow. “Got any daddy issues? This is a safe space, don’t hesitate to share them with the rest of the group.”

Sirius’ mouth tightened to a thin line while he looked daggers at her.

James eyes darted between the two. He felt as though he was dealing with two boiling, spark-throwing cauldrons that threatened to explode at any moment.

“So,” he said enthusiastically clapping his hands together. “Are we going to play quidditch or what?”

Marlene broke the staring contest and hopped playfully onto her feet.

“About time someone said it.”

She pranced out of the room without a backward glance. James stood up.

“You coming?” James said to Sirius nodding towards the door.

Sirius took a deep forced breath, got up and walked past James. The latter shook his head before leaving the kitchen. He doubted it was a good idea to have Sirius and Marlene handling bats when they seemed keen to jump on each other’s throat any minute, but he thought it might at least help diffuse the tension.

 

∞

 

James’s feet scrunched the gravel path of his back garden. The faint light that had managed to break through the sky’s veil shone on the glisten of his forehead. He wiped the sweat off and pulled his bangs back. He glanced over his shoulder. Sirius and Marlene followed closely behind him while animatedly arguing about which quidditch team had the most chances of winning the League Cup this next season. He chuckled at their arguments and unlocked the iron-work glass double doors that lead into the living room.

“How can you even say that?”

“You can’t deny the facts!”

“The only reason the Falcons won was because they’re so violent Gorgovitch was too muddled after receiving seven bludgers to the head to score any Quaffles!”

“He’s not the only Chaser in the Cannons! If the team depends solely on one player to win than it’s bound to be terrible.”

“They’re not terrible! They’re just going through a rough patch.”

“Really? Because last time I checked their motto had gone from _We shall conquer_ to _Let's all just keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best_. Just admit it. The Cannons are old news.”

“Whatever. At least they won their reputation with skill. The only reason the Falcons are talked about is because they throw scandalous post-match parties.”

“You’ve got to admit they sound pretty wicked.”

Their argument died down as they accommodated themselves in the living room, the atmosphere between the two having significantly lightened over the past couple of hours. James high fived himself mentally for his brilliant idea. There was nothing better than a good game of Quidditch to put two similarly pigheaded people in a good mood.

Marlene let herself fall on the chaise lounge she had claimed as her throne during her regular visits of the Potter household throughout her childhood. Never had someone looked more at home on it as she did with her legs spread in front of her and her elbow comfortably perched on the armrest.

James scratched his neck.

“I'll be right back,” he said pointing his thumb towards the door opposite from where they had come in.

“Where you going?” Marlene said picking at the lint of her seat.

“Er - I just have to check if I've received any owls.”

Sirius looked up at him suddenly, his eyes alight with understanding. James nodded.

“Can I trust you two to be alone without clawing at each other's throats?” he said looking at them through his brow.

“Oh, puh-lease,” said Marlene waving her hand dismissively. “Sirius and I go hand in glove. Isn't that right, Sirius?”

Sirius gave a tight-lipped smile and swung his legs over the back of a chesterfield, settling down on it.

“Absolutely.”

“Well, I hope I find you both in one piece when I come back.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Marlene said innocently.

“Speak for yourself.”

James walked out into the same corridor they had been lectured by Mrs. Potter last evening, chuckling softly. Turning left towards the staircase, he wondered how two people that were so much alike had such trouble getting along.

As he started to climb the stairs, his thoughts flew back to Remus. He knew there were slim chances that he had replied yet, but checking it would help him ease his mind. He considered the possibility that he might not have read the article at all, hoping in vain that it might be true. Halfway through the third floor corridor, he stopped in his tracks.

Mrs. Potter was sitting next to the master bedroom door, her back against the wall.

“Mum?” he said getting closer to her. “What are you doing here?”

Mrs. Potter didn’t budge. Her eyes, empty of any emotion, stared straight ahead at the opposite wall.

James rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Mum?”

She raised her head slowly. He tried to meet her gaze, but she looked right through him, making him feel like a ghost. She opened her mouth to speak and the second her glassy eyes seemed to gleam with the beginning of a thought, they dimmed just as quickly. Her gaze fell.

James softly squeezed her arm trying to to push down the panic that was starting to bubble inside of him.

“Mum? What's wrong?”

“He's gone.”

Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Who's gone, mum?” he said his pulse quickening. “What’s happened?”

He felt like he was speaking to a child.

Mrs. Potter took a deep breath before answering.

“Y - your father. He's gone.”

James blinked repeatedly. He didn't understand. Where had his father gone?

“What do you mean ‘he's gone’? What's he doing? When is he coming back?”

“He's not, James. He's dead.”

James’ mind blanked. He didn't understand. That couldn't be true.

He didn't understand.

“What are you talking about?” he said his voice getting higher. “He was fine this morning. I saw him!”

James was growing impatient. His mum was getting on his nerves by making him ask all these questions and giving incomplete answers each time. She had to stop.

“He didn't come into work and I thought he was coming in later, but then Pokey apparated to the ministry and told me that he wouldn't wake up, he wouldn’t wake up whatever she tried to do, so I came rushing home and there he was in our room. He wouldn't move, James! He just lay still in bed a - and I called - I called healer, but it was too late. It was a heart attack. He was just too old, James. All the stress was too much for him.” Her voice broke. “There's nothing we could do.”

She paused for air.

James was barely aware of what his mother was telling him. He didn't understand what was happening.

It couldn't be right. His mum was lying. People didn't feel fine one moment and drop dead the next. It didn't happen. His mum was lying and she needed to stop.

“Stop that, mum! I saw him this morning. He's fine.”

He got up and reached for the door. Mrs. Potter grabbed his wrist.

“James, he's not there anymore! He's gone!”

“But he can't be, mum! He can't! I saw him this morning! He's fine! I want to see him!” he said stomping his foot on the floor like a child.

He tried to pull away from his mother, but she held on tight, squeezing his hand.

“He's not there anymore. They've already taken him.”

The unusual calmness in his mother's voice startled him.

“But I want to see him! Where is he! They can't take him away! I want to see him!”

“He's not here, James. I'm sorry.”

James finally pulled away from her grasp. But he didn't head for the door. He ran aimlessly, not bothering to think about where he was going. Once his feet decided to stop, he slid down the wall and broke down crying.

 

∞

 

James wasn't aware of the things happening around him. He wasn't aware of where he was or how long he'd been there. He didn't notice Edbert perching himself on his knee and thrusting a letter into his limp hand with his beak. He didn’t even noticed the bite the offended owl gave him when he didn't received the attention he wanted. He didn't hear the haughty flutter of wings as he took flight.

The only thing he was conscious of was the emptiness he felt in chest, threatening to tear it apart.

He kept repeating last night’s events in his mind, thinking about how his father had looked. The way his cheeks had seemed more hollow than what he'd ever remembered, the way his eyes sunk into his sockets. The way he remained silent for most of his mum and Ed's banter. How he had barely touched his food. How he had excused himself before anyone else. How he had had trouble even getting up from the table.

“ _This war has got us all working like house-elves!”_ he remembered Ed saying last night.

How could he have not noticed all these things sooner?

Maybe if his dad had stayed home more often, maybe if he had slept more or fed himself better this wouldn't have happened. Or maybe, if Sirius and him hadn't run off with no warning, his dad would have spent the afternoon relaxing like he should have and not worrying about him.

Guilt twisted at his gut like a knife.

He tried to remember the last thing he had heard his father say, but it made his chest tighten so he stopped. Instead, he thought about how they had gone to Marlene's without even saying goodbye. Maybe if he had checked on him before leaving, this wouldn't have happened. He could have called the healer in time. He could have done something. He could have saved him. If he had done all those thing he wouldn't be regretting not saying goodbye to his father now. How long had his dad’s body lain there alone because of his stupid mistake?

The knowledge that he would never be able to talk to him again, that he didn't exist anymore crushed him like nothing he'd ever felt before. It left him gasping for air.

James heard footsteps on the other side of the door. It creaked open and someone sat down next to him, brushing his arms against his.

Sirius.

He looked up enough to see his friend’s hands hanging between his knees. Sirius wiped them on his trousers, which drew attention to a slight reddish swelling of his knuckles.

James cleared his throat.

“What did you do?” he said with a hoarse voice.

“Punched a wall,” Sirius said as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

James shrugged.

“Doesn't look that bad.”

“That's the thing with house-elves. They won't let you walk around with a couple of broken knuckles.”

They remained silent for a while.

“James, I - I’m sorry.”

James swallowed hard and nodded.

He felt Sirius’ hand rest on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

James’ lip trembled. He knew that if he tried to speak, the tears in his eyes would threaten to spill. He breathed deeply, struggling to gulp down the cry that was trying to escape his mouth.

He was glad Sirius had found him, he thought.

“Marlene is still here, by the way,” Sirius said after a while. “She’s with your mum, I think.”

James nodded again.

He was thankful that Sirius was talking. It kept his mind from sliding back to the turmoil in his head.

“Pokey is also downstairs. She’s taking care of your mum.”

He paused

“I, er - ”

James looked down, his elbows resting on his knees. He watched his tears fall onto the stone floor. His shoulders started shaking and Sirius’ arm instinctively wrapped itself around them.

He wanted Sirius to tell him that everything would be alright, that the pain would stop, however childish it might seem. But he knew Sirius would never try to get his hopes up like that.

And for that he was grateful.


	5. Funerals and Fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally some Lily/James interaction!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since I've updated! Hope you like this chapter!

_Lily POV_

* * *

Lily’s eyes fell onto the body. Under the eyes of the crowd filling the rows of seats, it lay alone. A thick velvet mantle was draped over it and fell on the marble table on which it laid, its corners dancing in the breeze, while the tall grass surrounding it reached out to tickle it.

Lily had never been to a funeral. The fact that it was the burial of a man she had never met before didn’t help ease the strangeness of it all. She felt out of place, like she was entering someone else’s house for the first time. 

Her closest connection to this man was Marlene who was now sitting next to her, staring straight ahead, her face as hard as a stone. She hadn’t been herself these last few days; there had been none of her usual cutting remarks, and her buzzing restlessness had faded into a permanent apathetic mood which was only interrupted when she got cross. If anything, her temper had become more explosive. 

Marlene’s gaze shifted and Lily followed it to a man clad in a grey robe who just had gotten up from the front row and was now standing behind the marble table; he cleared his throat and peered at the assembly. The crowd fell silent.

“We meet here today to mourn and honour the life of Fleamont Potter.” He paused, a solemn frown etched on his. “We can consider Mr. Potter fortunate to have gone the way he has. In these times, not many are those who get to pass away in the warmth of their homes.”

A common shudder ran through the crowd, while realisation dawned upon Lily.

How many were the people who had died in the hands of strangers, their bodies being torn apart and mutilated, sometimes past recognition? How many were the people whose last memories were the bared claws of their enemies, or a cold gush of green light, forcing their last breath out of their chests?

Lily knew how many they were; they appeared in the _Prophet_ everyday. Mr. Potter could be envied almost, for his family was able to grieve him properly.

Lily glanced at the faces around her, studying their reactions. It seemed that everyone had had this same thought, their minds connected by the fear in their hearts. People were nervous; they shifted in their seats, their robes brushing against each other; they looked down, unable to face the truth coming out of the official’s mouth. Only one person looked up. 

Dumbledore.

He sat a couple rows behind them, looking peaceful, with his eyes closed and his hands intertwined on his lap, almost asleep. 

His eyes popped open and Lily found herself being stared by him. Her cheeks grew hot at the idea that he had sensed she had been looking at him, but he simply nodded to her slowly and closed his eyes again. The man next to him leaned over to whisper something in his ear and Lily recognised him instantly; Alastor Moody. He had been all over the _Prophet_ these last few days; one of the the Ministry’s most competent aurors. He was ferocious to say the least, fighting until he was the last standing, no matter how many limbs that was on. He had already lost one to the cause.

Dumbledore nodded to what he had been told and Moody leaned over to the row in front of him to tap the shoulders of two people. They, a man and a woman, turned around. The woman had a round bubbly face framed by her shortly-cropped dark hair, while the man’s blond curls fell onto his thin face like a cascade. Lily was certain she had seen them before and waited until they turned around to have a better look at their faces. Yes, she certainly knew them; they had been Gryffindor Head Girl and Boy in her third year. Alice Prewett and Frank Longbottom, the couple everyone had been gossiping about that year.

She didn't remember James ever talking to them - or even acknowledging their existence - which made her wonder how they had ended up at Mr. Potter’s funeral. Had they known him, worked with him? Or had they been invited to support a friend, like her?

Alice leaned over to the person next to her, a weeping frizzy-haired man whose tears were dampening his long, whiskery mustache. She squeezed her shoulder lightly, to which he answered with a teary smile.

 

∞

 

The marble table had disappeared, and all that was left in its place was a flat square stone encrusted into the earth. Underneath it lay Mr. Potter. The stone wasn’t visible if you weren’t standing right above it - like Lily was now - which was a deliberate decision, as muggles wouldn’t suspect there to be a graveyard in the middle of a field. Blossoms had already started blooming around the grave. As she had learned today, wizards didn’t give flowers to their dead; they made them grow. Looking around her, she could now tell exactly where other people had been buried. A thicket of flowers would appear every few feet, splattering the field with bright drops of colours.

“Your parents are waving us over,” said Lily to Marlene, nudging her on the elbow.

Marlene looked up at them; they were standing up with her little sister between rows of practically empty seats, if not for a few stragglers. Once the ceremony had ended, the guest had been ushered into a big white tent that had been erected a several feet away, the occasional ray of sunshine grinning down on it amid the clouds.

She ignored them and fumbled with her cloak. It took a moment for Lily to notice that the tip of Marlene’s wand was poking out of her sleeve; she pointed it at the ground, and whispered,

“ _Orchideous_!”

The leaves came first, growing at an outlandish speed and, suddenly, a strong reddish stem carrying a single bud rose from the ground; it slowly gained in height, until the petals burst open and welcomed in the light.

Marlene tucked the wand back into her robe and patted it down innocently, as if dusting it off.

“Let’s go.”

They walked back to the McKinnons, and as they approached them, Mrs. McKinnon picked up her bag from the ground. She was a tall and curvy woman and she styled her salt-and-pepper hair in a way that not one single fly-away slipped out of the bun that sat just above her neck; her robe was pristine and pressed, black, for the occasion.

“Marlene darling, your father and I were thinking about leaving.”

“What? Leave now?”

“We have a lot of work to do and we didn’t think it wise to spend any more of our time here.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Marlene, please. You know that these are difficult times for us at the Ministry,” she said her voice growing more impatient with every word. “It’s important that we keep up regular work.”

“Of course, mother. Nothing is more important than work. Not even the funeral of a so-called friend.”

“Oh, _please_ , Marlene.”

“Don’t listen to her, dear, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I’d like to see you doing our work, young lady,” said her father looking at her through her brow. His mouth twitched and he scratched his close-cropped moustache.

Marlene’s eyes darted knives at him.

“Fine,” she said crossing her arms and slumping onto a chair, her back to the tent. “But I'm staying here.”

Mrs. McKinnon sighed and grabbed her other daughter’s hand.

“Sometimes I wonder who’s the oldest between the two, you or Desiree. I want you home for dinner by seven. Don't be late,” she turned towards Lily and her expression softened. “We'll see you later.”

Lily gave her a tight-lipped smile and leaned on the back of the chair behind her.

“It's not like you'll be home to check if I'm there,” Marlene said under her breath. “Oh, we got caught with something at work, Marlene darling,” she said exaggerating her mum’s slightly plummy voice.

If the McKinnons had heard what she had said, they decided to ignore it and continued walking in the direction of the tent until they were walking alongside it, and, then, no longer visible. Marlene looked at them leave from the corner of her eye and grunted. She shuffled in her seat, looking around her and got up.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Are you going into the tent? I’ll go with you.”

“No. Going to talk to James.”

“ _Oh_. I'll stay here then.”

Her gaze followed Marlene while she walked up the aisle and stopped in front of the last row. James was sat there, alone. He looked up and she wordlessly pushed him to the seat next to him and took his, then put her head on his shoulder. A moment later, his came to rest on hers. They didn't talk; they just sat there, next to each other, their shoulders bumping together, their knees touching.

It was so easy for Lily to forget that Marlene and James used to be very close as kids. She hardly ever saw them together at Hogwarts. But regardless of that, she was what he had closest to a sibling; after the Marauders, of course.

“James, my dear boy!”

The ringing voice that had shattered the calm stillness belonged to none other than Slughorn. He had just gotten out of the tent, his paunch popping out of the entrance before the rest of his body, then strolled over to where Marlene and James were sitting, waving enthusiastically, and sat down next to them. He started chatting with James, while shaking his hand and patting his back all at the same. The poor bloke looked like he had just walked into a brick wall; one with a stomach as big as a balloon and a expensive taste for pineapple sweets. Marlene stood up and stormed away without a backward glance. She had never been able to stand him and Slughorn didn't seem to notice her sudden absence; he rarely acknowledged her presence. 

Taking Marlene’s exit as her cue, Lily pushed herself up and marched towards them.

“You know, your father and I were fast friends, ma boy! Actually, I was the first person he tried his Sleekeazy’s potion on before it was commercialised. You could say I was like his guinea pig. If I may, that might even be the reason behind its success,” Lily heard him say once in earshot, while he poked his elbow into James’ ribs. “But he was clever man, yes. Very clever. His loss - ”

“Hullo, Professor.”

“Why, hello, Lily dear!” he said sitting at the edge of his seat. “What brings you to this neck of the woods? Oh, how very silly of me. We all now why were are gathered here on this unfortunate day.”

He shook his head in comical indignation.

“Excuse me, professor, but Professor Dumbledore has asked to see you. The most urgent of business he says it is. I’m not supposed to know this,” she said leaning in closer and lowering her voice to a whisper. “But I overheard him saying something about having a whole article in the _Prophet_ dedicated to the best professor at Hogwarts.”

Slughorn practically jumped out of his seat.

“My, my, well yes, Lily,” he said trying to regain some dignity while patting down his cloak. “That seems right up my alley - er, thank you. I’m afraid I must excuse myself, James. Ah, and don't worry, Lily. I won't tell on you for a bit of innocent eavesdropping,” he said winking. 

Lily plastered a fake smile on her face and watched him leave, then turned around towards James only to find him looking at her. His eyes fell to the ground as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. She cleared her throat.

“James, I’m sorry for - ”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for Marlene,” she said defensively although his tone hadn’t been aggressive. 

It wasn’t a lie.

A few days ago Marlene had come looking for her in Cokeworth, her hometown. The moment she had heard Marlene's voice calling her name in the middle of the street she had felt a brick drop in her stomach. Lily wasn't supposed to go to her house for a couple of weeks still. She had turned around and seen Marlene running towards her, her tight curls bouncing on her shoulders.

“No, but what are you doing _here_? I thought you hated me.”

 _Hated him?_ Lily thought.

During the years they had known each other, she had laughed at his pranks; she had sometimes been amused, mostly annoyed, by his arrogant antics; she had been infuriated by the way he sometimes treated Severus to the point of wanting to obliterate him out of existence, but had she hated him?

No, never.

“I don’t wish Slughorn’s pestering on even my worst of enemies.”

A ghost of a chuckle escaped his mouth.

Lily couldn’t believe how different he now looked; his shoulders were bowed in and he was standing very still, impossibly still for James. In the five years she had known him, he hadn’t been anything other than a constant foot-tapping, ever-shifting, restless boy. Even his hair was off; it didn't point every-which-way in what he thought was an effortless, tousled look. It fell flat on his forehead. Lifeless. 

She wasn't looking at the James she remembered from the end of June and, in that moment, any grudge she had held against him since their fight lifted from her chest. Yes, he had been an insufferable git, but Lily wasn’t heartless. Anyone who had just lost a parent deserved some sympathy.

He sighed.

“Please stop.”

“What?”

“Looking at me like that. I'm sick of people treating me like I might have a breakdown every other minute. Just treat me like you used to. Please.”

“Okay,” she said tentatively.

“Thank you.”

“But don't come crying to me when you get upset because your humongous ego has been wounded. Loss for words doesn’t look good on you.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a way that, if she hadn't been looking, would have been imperceptible. 

“You're brilliant.”

“I know.”

James looked down while Lily’s eyes followed a small ginger, man clad with a brown coat who had just gotten out of the tent and sat down in the front row, their back to them. 

“James?”

That was Sirius, standing in the doorway; Remus and Peter appeared behind him. The three of them looked surprised at the sight of James and Lily sitting together, but Sirius didn’t linger on them. His eyes jumped over them to the front of the aisle where the man was sitting. They opened like plates.

“You!”

He stomped past Lily, pushing her to a side.

“You bastard!” he said.

It took a moment for the man to understand he was the one being called out and, at the sight of the fuming Sirius marching towards him, he jumped out of his seat. But his bandy legs didn't give him enough time to flee before he had been grabbed by the collar of his old, patchy coat.

“Whatever you think I did, it's not true! I - I'm innocent, I am!” he said raising his hands in front of his face.

“You gave us that powder, you thick oaf!”

“P - powder? What powder?”

“Are you touched in the head?” he said giving him a shake. “That bloody jinxed powder! Instant Darkness Powder!”

All the blood seemed to have drained from the man’s face.

Lily looked at James, searching for an explanation, but, to her surprise, he was halfway already to where Sirius was scaring the man out of his wits, Peter hopping behind him.

Remus gave a tired sigh.

“What in the bloody hell?”

“Who is that? Do you know know him?” she asked him.

He shook his head.

“J - jinxed? I di’n know it was jinxed!” the man being attacked said.

“Liar!”

“Sirius,” James said putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let go of him.”

The words seemed to bounce off his skull.

“That thing exploded right in my hand!”

“It's not my fault! I di’n know! I di’n make it!”

“You knew!”

“Sirius, let go.”

“What if all if it had fallen out of the pouch?” he said spit flying out of his mouth. “It could have blasted my bloody hand off!”

“I - I di’n know!” he managed to whimper.

“For Merlin’s sake, Sirius, let go of him! It's not worth it!”

James struggled to loosen his grip, but it was useless. Sirius had the strength of a full-grown giant when he was angry.

“Peter, help me!”

Peter straightened up suddenly and grabbed hold of one of Sirius’ arms, but he was quickly shaken off it. It was useless.

Lily took hold of Remus’ elbow and ran in their direction.

“Stop!” she said. “Let him go or I'll hex you!”

Remus grabbed one of Sirius’ arm. She didn’t have the time to get her wand out before they were interrupted by a booming voice.

“Let go of him this instant, Black!”

The six of them turned their heads to where it was coming from, not realising how ridiculous they looked: Sirius was pulling the man upwards by his coat, forcing him to stand on his toes, while James and Remus had their their arms wrapped around Sirius’ torso, and Peter tried to pull at one of his arms. McGonagall was running towards them, one of her hands lifting her robe right right above her feet.

“I didn't believe them when they told me that three of my students were having a row! At a funeral nonetheless! You should be ashamed of yourselves!” she said coming to a halt in front of him. “Black, this is the last time I'm telling you, let go of him once and for all!”

Sirius’ jaw clenched before he let go of the man, pushing him away from him. He stumbled back and fell onto a seat.

McGonagall’s mouth was a line.

“What is the meaning of this, Mundungus?” she said addressing him.

“I - I don’ know! The bloke just attacked me! Out of nowhere!”

“You filthy liar!” Sirius said lifting his fist toward him.

James and Remus each grabbed one of his arms.

“Black, behave yourself! Mundungus, please go back into the tent while I settle this with my students.”

“Y - yes ma'am!”

He scuttled out of sight as fast as his short legs allowed him, while Sirius’ icy eyes burned holes into his back.

“I would have thought that by now you had learned to control yourself, Black. It's safe to say that I'm very disappointed in you.”

“You don't know what he's done, Profe -”

“I don't care! I've never witnessed such disrespect, causing a scene at a ceremony like this! I'm well aware that you don't regard highly what people think of you, but the least you could do is take James or Mrs. Potter in consideration, for Merlin’s sake!”

Sirius opened his mouth, then shut it almost immediately.

“I'm glad I was informed of this incident and not Euphemia. The poor woman has enough on her plate as it is. Now, if you'll excuse, I'm going back into the tent. As should all of you,” she said giving each of them a piercing stare.  “Term hasn't even started and I already want to dock points from them,” she grumbled to herself before storming off.

They stayed in silence for a moment. Remus and James let go of Sirius.

“James, I'm sorry,” he said.

“Whatever. Like she said, you only ever think of yourself, don't you?”

He walked away in the opposite direction of the tent, his legs kicking at the long grass, fraying himself a path.

“James!”

He didn't turn around, and soon enough he was just a dot in the distance.

Crash!

Lily jumped. Sirius had just kicked a couple of seats to the ground.


	6. Return to Hogwarts

_James POV_

* * *

Excitement pulsed through the air as the frenzied masses spilled onto Platform 9¾. After running through the entry archway, each and every person had stopped in their tracks and gawked at the gleaming, scarlet-red engine standing proud in front of them, big white smoke shooting out of its pipe and covering them all like on a cloudy day.

Each and every person except James. To him, everything appeared to be dimmed, from the train that shone not with a glossy red, but with the dull colour of dried blood, to the cries of joy of his fellow classmates that barely managed to break through the invisible bubble around his ears. The thrill they all felt seemed not to reach only him.

“Five minutes!” the guard called out.

Mrs. Potter looked at the clock that hung from the platform wall.

“You two boys best get on now. You still have to haul your trunks in. And find good compartments, of course.”

She looked at her son, sighed, then opened her arms to him, which welcomed James in.

“You’ll be alright, mum?”

His voice was barely audible over the sound of the trolleys squealing against the floor, of the children who cheered and jeered at seeing their friends again, and of the cats and owls who hissed and hooted.

“Don’t you worry about me, James,” Mrs. Potter said, her voice muffled against James’ shoulder. “I’ll keep busy.”

And that’s exactly what she had been doing; between work at the ministry, and what James guessed were order meetings, he hadn’t seen much of her these last couple of days. Not that he was complaining. Imagining her sitting around the house alone during longs hours now that Sirius and he wouldn’t be home gave him an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t quite quench. He squeezed her tightly in his arms, and she laid a kiss at the nape of his neck.

“Take care now,” she said as if pulling away, but she didn’t move. Neither did he.

James rested his chin on her shoulder and tucked his nose in her hair, while the chatter around them faded to a barely perceptible hum.

“Be sure to owl me,” she said with a teary voice. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, then let go of him. “You too, Sirius.”

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down to her height.

“Of course, Mrs. Potter.”

“Oh, please, Sirius. I’ve told you to call me Euphemia.”

“Nah, it sounds too formal. I’d rather call you Mrs. P. if that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect,” she said patting his cheek.

“All aboard!” the guard said.

Mrs. Potter straightened up and pushed both of them towards the train, trunks in hand, James holding Edbert’s cage in the other hand. Sirius climbed to the top of the short flight of stairs before waving goodbye to Mrs. Potter and disappearing inside. James’ mouth curved into a sad smile not unlike his mother’s.

“Get along now. Before all the good compartments are taken.”

Her face didn’t quite mirror her urging tone.

“I’ll kick someone out of one if I have to.”

She rolled her eyes. “No you won’t.”

She was right.

“All aboard!” the guard repeated, shutting the doors of the train, one by one.

“I’d better get going. Love you, mum.”

“Love you, dear.”

And he was inside.

He battled his way down the corridor as best he could with his cumbersome belongings, through the heap of second and third years gawking up at him, the trembling new students too excited to notice him, and the faces he knew all too well already. He occasionally heard _Hiya James!_ shouted from a compartment and poked his head in each one, searching for Sirius, often having to stop to say hello to a fellow classmate.

“There you are!” Sirius said, his head hanging out of a door ahead of him, completely oblivious to the fourth year girls ogling at him from the compartment opposite. “Have you seen Pete? Or Remus?”

James shook his head, pushed him aside, then slipped his trunk under the seat, and perched the sleeping Edbert on top of it before sitting down.

“Speaking of the devil!” Sirius said, half of his body still outside of the compartment. “There you are, Pete,” he said ruffling his friend’s hair. “Come in, come in. Make yourself at home. Remus, honestly, it’s been too long.”

Remus rolled his eyes at his exaggeration. The four of them had seen each other little over a week ago. After his father’s funeral, James had invited Remus and Peter to stay at his house until the end of the summer, but they had only ended up staying two weeks, since Remus wanted to spend the full moon away from anyone he could unintentionally hurt. The three other boys had tried to convince him that nothing wrong could happen if they camped out in the forest and transformed into their animagus form, but he had insisted he wanted to spend the last few days before term with his parents.

“It’s never too long, if it’s away from you, Padfoot.”

Sirius clutched his heart. “Always so hurtful, Moony.”

Due to their small fight before the summer, things had been a bit rocky at the Potter’s between Remus and Sirius. They had barely talked to each the first couple of days, and when they did, it was only to slide snarky comments into group conversations directed at each other, until one or the other left the room. However, the tension had lifted gradually when Peter and Remus had learned that Sirius had run away from his parent’s house.

While the others made themselves comfortable, James dug in his trousers’ pocket until his fingers found a flat, diamond-shaped object and pulled it out.

His Quidditch captain badge.

He couldn't help a smile from creeping over his face as he remembered the pure surge of euphoria he had felt when he had opened his Hogwarts letter and the badge had dropped out of it. Quidditch captain. Boy, had he fantasised about having it since his very first game on the Gryffindor team. He had been a lanky boy, half the size of everyone else on team, but with a determination to be a great player bigger than any of his teammates’.

In his second year, had he not read all the books in the Quidditch section he could get his hungry hands on, badgering Madame Pince about expanding their collection until he had been thrown out of the library by force? Had he not read _Quidditch through the ages_ through and through, back to front, filling the margins with his scribbles, studying every move and tactic to the last possible detail (earning him a detention from the librarian for “vandalism of intellectual property”)?

Yes, he had done all those things and more.

The badge was yanked out of his hands.

“Hey!”

“I can't believe you’re quidditch captain,” Sirus said, admiring it adoringly. “We're going to have the best quidditch team in the whole of Hogwarts history.”

“That's if you make it into the team,” James said grabbing it back.

“Why wouldn't I? I'm the best beater in Hogwarts.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Remus said. “Marlene could give you a good run for your money.”

“I think I'm going to try out for the Quidditch team,” Peter piped in, shyly.

Three heads turned to him.

“You're going to try out for the Quidditch team?” Sirius said in comical disbelief. “But, Wormtail, you’ve never ridden a broom more than four feet high!”

Peter looked at his lap. “I know, sure, but, you know… I thought I could practice a little, and I have! I've been riding my broom all summer and, well, my mum thinks it’s a silly idea, but I thought, I thought I could try out.”

They remained quiet for a few moments.

“Tell me, Wormtail,” Remus said, raising an eyebrow. “Haven’t you always been scared of heights?”

Peter grew even paler. “Well, yes, yes, but - ”

Remus reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Well, Wormtail, I think that’s exactly why you should try - ”

He was interrupted by the door being yanked open. Davey Gudgeon, a short, but muscular, pale-skinned seventh year with a full head of dark, curly hair stood at the entrance, his eyes fixed on the badge James was holding.

“Will you look at that. Potter is Quidditch captain!”

He strode to him, slapped his back and pulled the badge out of his hands.

“Wow. Our team is going to be excellent this year.”

“Our team?” Sirius said, his eyebrows raised to his hairline.

“Well, you’ll have to try out first,” James said, taking the badge from Davey. “And that's if you make it in one piece to the tryouts. I wouldn't put that past you.”

“Just stay away from the whomping willow and you'll be fine,” Remus added. “We wouldn't want you almost losing an eye again, would we.”

Sirius shrugged. “I would be rather indifferent to the fact, honestly.”

Davey, lost in thought, seemed not to hear their comments. He turned towards the corridor and spotted a girl walking down the corridor.

“Oi, Vance! I've got some juicy new info for you if you’ll spare me a minute!”

Emmeline Vance, a chinese girl in their year, stopped in her tracks, hands on her hips.

“James Potter is quidditch captain,” Davey said, pleased with himself, as if he had found out the biggest buzz of the year.

Her arms dropped in disappointment. “Predictable. It was only a matter of time after Meadowes left Hogwarts and that other idiot took over last year.”

She walked away without waiting for a reply.

“Hey!” he said running after her, offence clear in his tone. “That was a great piece of info!”

“Bummer, I thought he actually had something interesting to say,” Peter said.

“Never expect that much of him, Wormtail,” Sirius said shaking his head.

James tuned out the other three’s conversation while he pulled at a loose thread of his badge. He couldn't help but wonder what his father would have thought of it. His mother was overjoyed when she saw it of course. She had livened the dinner table that evening with her cheerful chatter and memories of the Gryffindor Quidditch team during her time at Hogwarts. The air in the house had lost some of its weight momentarily and James had let his mind wander and dream about the type of promising Quidditch team he was going to build during the school year. He wished that his father would have been there to see it. Unfortunately, the only thing Mr. Potter had witnessed from his son were the endless owls the school sent to his parents every time he got into trouble; and that was quite often. His dad had only ever known him as an arrogant prat and there was nothing he could do to change that.

He looked out the window and watched as cities morphed into towns, and then into fields which eventually grew into mountains that tore at the horizon with their peaks. During the rest of the trip, he only half-listened to his friends and seldom participated in their banter, until it slowed down and finally died out. Unlike other years, not many people dropped by to chat with them or simply get a load of their jokes and tricks and, for the first time ever, the mood was quite still in their compartment, other for an occasional sigh or kicking of the floor. As the silent and still hours passed, the trees around them grew thicker and the light grew dimmer until they were completely surrounded by darkness. The train started slowing down.

“We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately,” said an invisible voice echoing through the train.

“We should change into our robes,” Remus said, gently waking up Peter who had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

After doing so, they walked out into the corridor packed with students, while the train kept slowing down and eventually stopped. They pushed their way out onto the small, dark platform of Hogsmeade station.

“First years! First years! First years follow me!” came Hagrid’s familiar voice over the jabber of the crowd. “Anymore first years? Follow me!”

His big hairy face appeared illuminated by the light of the lamp he carried over the sea of first years’ heads. The four of them waved hello to him and the grin he beamed at them shone even brighter than the lantern. They walked to the carriages with the rest of the students and left Hagrid with the frightened first years behind them. Once again, there was no pushing this time from their classmates to get into their carriage with them.

“Who do you think will be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?” Peter said, trying to start a conversation.

“Merlin knows who Dumbledore has managed to find,” Remus said.

They remained silent for the rest of the short trip, until the carriage came to a halt and Peter got up and opened the door.

“Watch it!” Remus said.

It was too late. Peter, who had been too busy looking at the castle above him, hadn’t seen the girl standing in front of their door and had fallen on top of her.

“Oi! Watch where you’re going!” the girl said, trying to drag herself from underneath Peter.

Remus hopped out of the carriage and gave them a hand. The girl, who had olive skin and sleek black hair, glared at Peter. Although she looked no older than twelve and was surely a full head and a half shorter than them, she didn’t seem to cower in front of them; not even after having been thrown to the ground. She dusted herself off and tucked her chin length hair behind both of her ears.

“Is James Potter in this carriage?” she said her head held high.

“Hey Prongs, you have fans lining up to speak to you already,” Sirius said, climbing out of the carriage.

James poked his head out. “What’s that?”

“Is it true that you’re Quidditch captain?”

James cocked an eyebrow. “Seems like news travels fast.”

“That would be thanks to Vance, I reckon,” said Sirius.

“If it’s true you’re Quidditch captain, then I will see you at the tryouts. I want to be a beater.”

She nodded, turned around and marched proudly to the castle.

“That little girl? A beater?” Sirius said in disbelief. “She’d be half as big as the two brutes on the Slytherin team.”

“I wouldn’t be fooled by her size if I were you. She has a deadly grip,” Peter said ,rubbing his elbow. “Is it me or have the youngest ones become bossier?”

“I think it might just be her. I don’t know what she had for breakfast this morning, but I wouldn’t mind getting a taste of it,” Sirius said, his eyes following the girl.

“Oi, James! Did you just get asked out by a second year?”

They turned around and saw Marlene running towards them, a grin splattered on her face.

“I wouldn’t be smiling if I were you. I hear that girl’s going to take your place as beater on the team.”

Marlene rolled her eyes. “Gwenog Jones, you mean? She’s been running up and down the train all day asking when tryouts take place and if it’s true that James is captain. What a pest.” She eyed Sirius mischievously. “Aren’t you worried?”

“Why would I be worried?”

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the look on that girl’s face, but she seems pretty determined to be on the team, and out of the two of us everyone knows who the spare is.”

“Merlin’s beard, just give the bloody team a rest, won't you!” James said before Sirius could retort.

Marlene raised his eyebrows at him, but James ignored her and turned around, coming face to face for the first time since June with Hogwarts. Perched on a hill, he saw a prominent mass of towers and turrets of different sizes, flaked with windows burning bright against the night sky. At that same moment, a silvery laugh drifted to his ears over the sound of hundreds of students bustling to the castle. He turned around a saw Lily Evans walking towards the entrance, while talking animatedly with Hestia Jones, Kingsley Shacklebolt and a couple of other students from their year. James couldn't help the hint of smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he felt the sudden urge to run towards them and join their conversation. Instead, he turned around and said,

“Are you coming or what?”

Remus, Peter and Sirius looked at each, then shrugged before following James up the few stone stairs that led to the oak doors through which most of the students were entering the castle.

The entrance hall was already well lit by the torches hooked to the stone walls, whose flames were reflected on the steps of the majestic marble staircase that led upstairs. Everything was as James had last seen it, from the house point hourglasses whose gems were still in the upper bulb, to the double doors to the right that took one to the Great Hall and from which a warm welcoming light was now escaping.

“PEEVES!”

The cry was followed by a devilish cackle from Peeves the poltergeist who had just come up from the dungeons and was now floating out of the entrance doors, his laughter echoing against the night sky. Soon after, Filch the caretaker bounced into the entrance hall, covered in what looked like a mix of honey and pillow feathers. He staggered through the mass of giggling students, pushing them out of his way until he reached the oak doors.

“I'll have you out this time,” he growled under his breath, his bulging eyes popping out of their sockets more than usual. “Oooh, I'll have you, you filthy Poltergeist…”

“Poor Filch, he's already off to a bad start,” Remus said, shaking his head regretfully, although the half smile on his face betrayed him.

“Home sweet home!” Sirius said, wrapping his arms around Remus and Peter’s shoulders. “Let's go have some dinner.”

They entered the Great Hall and sat down at an already packed Gryffindor table. Soon enough,  a line of first year students, headed by McGonagall, walked falteringly to the top of the hall; some of them gawking up at the hundreds of floating candles and at the ceiling reflecting the night sky outside, others looking down at their feet. McGonagall placed a battered old hat on the stool at the head of the Great Hall and the entirety of its occupants went silent instantaneously. A rip appeared at the rim of the hat that started to sing.

 

A good number of years ago

Were four of the greatest of friends

Who united with a common goal;

To teach as many as they could

And bestow their lore

To the next age of young witches

And young wizards galore.

Though united by a unique ambition

Differences led them to division,

For Slytherin would only teach

Those of pureblood heritance

And strong desire for eminence,

While those who were courageous

In the ever changing face of danger

Stayed in Gryffindor’s good books.

Ravenclaw found only worthy

Those of quick wit who were thirsty

For learning, while

Hufflepuff said she'd take the rest

And teach them as best she could.

Thus were created the four Houses

Into which every year it is my duty

To pick you out and split you up.

Although, no one has ever dared

To pick my brains on this grave matter

I speak my mind, and loud and clear

I'll warn you of the peril that lies without

When we don't unite from within.

Now, let the sorting ceremony begin!

 

The Great Hall broke into a thunder of applause.

“Same old story as last year, I guess,” Peter said.

“I don't care how many times the hat says it, I will not buddy up to any Slytherins,” Sirius said, eyeing the Slytherin table from over his shoulder.

“That's the spirit,” Remus said.

McGonagall cleared her throat and rolled out a long scroll of parchment, then read the first name on the list.

“Adams, Cassius!”

A chubby, pale-skinned little boy stumbled to the stool and sat down, placing the hat on his head with shaky hands.

“SLYTHERIN!”

The Slytherin table broke into applause, while a small murmur of disgust rose from the Gryffindors.

“Allen, Rhonda!”

A stout girl with mousy hair sat down at the stool.

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

There was more applause.

“Check out the new professor,” Sirius said, nudging James. “He's ginger.”

“Reckon he's our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?” Peter said.

Remus craned his neck to have a better look at the man sitting between Slughorn and Sprout. “Looks like it, doesn't it? How old do you think he is? Doesn't look much older than us.”

“Early twenties I’d say,” Sirius said.

A roar suddenly arose from their table as the first Gryffindor student of the year rushed to sit down at their table.

“Green, Annette!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The Gryffindor table trembled under the cries of celebration.

“Howe, Dorothy!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

The hat continued sorting the students into different houses, nearly reaching a hatstall when a boy named Gilderoy Lockhart sat down, but who was eventually put into Ravenclaw after a couple of minutes.

“McKinnon, Desiree!”

James looked around for Marlene. She was sitting a few seats down the table, between Lily and Hestia Jones. With Lily’s hand on her shoulder, she had sat up straight at the mention of her sister’s name and leaned on her elbows, almost sitting up from her seat as Desiree softly put the hat on her head. James saw her drumming her fingers on the table as the minutes grew longer. She grabbed the golden fork at her place and started twirling it in her hands.

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

The fork dropped from her hand. She brushed Lily’s hand off her shoulder and looked down, unaware that James had witnessed her reaction. The Hufflepuffs cheered their new member.

James watched over the rest of the uneventful sorting with his head resting on his palm. Once it was over, McGonagall rolled up the scroll and took the stool and hat away. Dumbledore rose to his feet and the entire hall turned towards him.

“Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts,” he said, smiling at his students.

James couldn’t help noticing that Dumbledore didn't seem as lively as he remembered him. He hadn't lost any of his vigour over the summer, but the smile on his face appeared forced. From where he was standing, James could even see that the bags under his eyes looked heavier.

“Now, before we begin our feast, I’d like to say a couple of words: _Bon appétit_!”

“You always have such _bons mots_ , professor!” Sirius said, clapping along with the rest of the students.

Dumbledore bowed his head to him, then sat down, tucking his long beard over his shoulder.

“If you’re kissing up to him, so that he’ll give you prefect privileges, you’re barking up the wrong tree, Padfoot,” Remus said.

“Get off your high hippogriffs, Moony. Not everyone wants to be a prefect.”

“Not even to be able to use the prefect’s bathroom?”

Sirius bit his lip, seemingly thinking about it, and Remus smiled a victorious smile.

James stomach growled and, as if the dishes had heard his protest, they filled with all sorts of delicious meals: roast, mash potatoes covered in gravy, peas, ham, roast chicken, pork chops, bacon, sausages, beans, Yorkshire pudding, steak and kidney pie, carrots, chips and peppermint humbugs. He was about to dig into the feast in front of him when he caught sight of Lily creeping back into the Great Hall, sliding between Marlene and Hestia and nonchalantly serving herself some potatoes. He looked at her with a puzzled expression. He hadn’t noticed her leaving.

The Great Hall was silent for the first couple of minutes, except for the clatter of the knives and forks on the golden plates, while everybody tried to stuff themselves with as much food as they possibly could. As the plates emptied themselves, the conversations picked up again, filling the hall with the echoes of laughter and gossip.

“I guess you weren’t disappointed, Wormtail,” Remus said, watching Peter get third helpings.  “Did the feast live up to your expectations?”

Peter opened his mouth to answer, but, instead of words, a big clear bubble swelled and flew out of his mouth. The four of them watched it their mouths open. After floating for a few seconds, it popped and Peter’s voice was heard saying,

“Shut your trap, Moony.”

Peter’s eyes opened like plates. James opened his mouth to say something, but the same thing happened to him. A bubble emerged from his mouth and popped letting his voice out.

“Of all the students at Hogwarts don't I have the loveliest hair?”

Another bubble appeared from Sirius’ mouth and when it popped a donkey cry was heard. James noticed they weren’t the only ones to whom this was happening. A few other bubbles were now floating over the other end of the Gryffindor table, as well as the three other tables. Only the staff table had been spared. The hall was quickly filled with barks, cackles and ditties of all sorts. James wanted to laugh but nothing similar to a giggle escaped from his mouth. Dumbledore stood up again.

“Well, it appears that you all have been taken by quite a peculiar spell,” he said, chuckling under his beard. “I'll take this opportunity to give you a few start of term notices while you all simmer down.”

He cleared his throat, as the voices died down.

“I'd like to inform first years and remind older students that the forest on the school grounds is strictly forbidden to all students. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has also asked me to remind you that performing magic in the hallways is prohibited. Quidditch trials will take place in two weeks. Those who are interested to join their house’s team, must contact Madam Hooch.”

James noticed a few heads turning towards the four of them at the Gryffindor table.

“On the same note,” Dumbledore continued, “the post of Quidditch commentator has been vacated. If interested in fulfilling this post, please speak to the head of your house. This year, I'm also pleased to welcome a new staff member: Fabian Prewett.”

A tall and lanky man got up and his ginger hair flared under the light of the hundreds of candles floating above. Barely no one spoke out of fear of what would come out of their mouths, but a few miaows and hoots were heard in the crowd. Prewett lightly bowed his head, trying to hide his amusement, and sat back down.

“Now, as we all know, Lord Voldemort and his followers are gaining more power everyday.” He paused and peered over the assembly. It looked as if he was laying his eyes on every student, one by one. “No words are great enough to warn you of the peril that lies outside of Hogwarts.”

Any sign of cheerfulness had been whipped from his face and replaced by a grave look.

“Accordingly, we have taken the necessary precautions this summer to reinforce the school grounds’ magical fortification.

“Even so, it is our duty to be precautious and take additional responsibilities in the face of this grave danger, as it is your duty as a student to heed any restrictions your teachers impose upon you, however bothersome they may be.

“I hereby request of you to inform immediately any member of the staff if you detect anything strange or suspicious inside or outside of the castle, and I trust that you will behave at any given time thinking of your own safety and and that of the others.”

He peered over the hall once more.

“Now, I understand that you're all very tired and eager to find the warmth and comfort of your beds to be well rested for tomorrow's classes. On that note, I wish you a very good night. Pip pip!”

The students got up with their usual racket and poured out of the hall. Remus and Lily got up, and carrying out their prefect duty, led the first years to their dormitories. As Sirius, Peter and James walked up the marble staircase, Davey Gudgeon ran up behind them and slapped them on their backs.

“Good one!” he said, winking at them. “What a way to start the year.”

“What are you on about?” Sirius said.

“Oh, that's right. It's supposed to be a secret. Don't worry, I won't tell a soul,” he said, crossing his heart, “But, between us, we all know that you four were behind that little concert that went down in the Great Hall.”

“Figured it out all by yourself?” Sirius said sarcastically.

Neither of them decided to correct Davey in his assumptions. The truth was that they hadn't planned out any pranks for this start of term.

“Hey Pete,” James said to Peter, pulling him to a side while Sirius was busy arguing with Davey. “I thought about what you told us earlier. About wanting to try out for the Quidditch team.”

Peter’s cheeks turned red. “Oh, forget about that. I was, er, only taking the mickey.”

“No, no. I think you should try.”

Peter turned to him, his eyes wide with innocent surprise.

“I gave it some thought and I might be able to train you before trials. We only have two weeks, it's not much, but it could help.”

“You would do that?” Peter said, looking up at James with awe.

“Of course, Pete. I'm your friend.”

He put his arm around his shoulders and smiled at him.


End file.
